


a rope that wears thin

by TrueColours



Series: There's Gotta Be A Better Way [3]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: BDSM dynamics, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Multi, Politics, True Love's Kiss, Whump, Worldbuilding, hostages, kingship, sword fights, the violence isn't extreme but it's beyond canon-typical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 06:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 53,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23346979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueColours/pseuds/TrueColours
Summary: King Ben is a hostage on board the Lost Revenge. Uma’s crew have never had a better shot at freedom. But now they’ve got to figure out how to strike a deal with Auradon. And until they do, Harry is stuck protecting Ben from every other villain on the Isle. Not to mention trying to protect himself from Ben’s God-damned princely magic…
Relationships: Ben/Harry Hook, Gil/Harry Hook/Uma (Background), Harry Hook/Uma
Series: There's Gotta Be A Better Way [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884349
Comments: 78
Kudos: 181





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This tale grew in the telling. I intended for it to be a fun experiment in writing Harry's point of view that I could knock out in a week. It ended up taking me five months and fifty thousand words, and my narrator fought me every step of the way. 
> 
> Thanks are due to my beta reader, FeoplePeel, who not only got my final draft turned around in record time, but provided suggestions and motivation every step of the way. I recommend her fic "round turn and two half hitches" for some truly exemplary Harry!pov. 
> 
> This fic is not a strict sequel or prequel to any of my other Descendants fics, but like them it takes place in my preferred AU, which diverges from canon around "It's Goin' Down" in Descendants 2.

> _"A most miraculous work in this good king;_  
>  _Which often, since my here-remain in England,_  
>  _I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven,_  
>  _Himself best knows: but strangely-visited people,_  
>  _All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye_  
>  _The mere despair of surgery, he cures..."_
> 
> _MacBeth,_ Act IV, Scene 3
> 
> * * *

Harry’s doing his afternoon rounds on the _Lost Revenge_. He stalks across the upper deck, casting his eye over the table where Gonzo and Jonas are gutting the day’s catch of fish. It looks to be a good one; no problems there. Desiree is half-way up the rigging, patching up a broken bit of rope. She feels his eyes on her and her fingers move a little faster.

 _That’s right,_ Harry thinks. _Normal rules still apply. Don’t think you can slack off just because the world’s gone mad_.

He moves to the rail and looks down at the main deck. Mathilde and Gil are sitting directly below him, in the lee of the raised stern. They’re having an animated conversation with King Benjamin himself.

It’s _lucky_ that some of the crew are so good at acting friendly with the king, Harry reminds himself. Even if they start _being_ friendly for real, it’s no matter, as long as he’s there to supervise. Somebody needs to be friendly with the king, if they want him to keep helping them.

Harry leans over the rail for a better look at the three of them. Mathilde is sitting close to Ben, more familiar than Auradon people ever do on TV, one boot almost bumping his thigh. His majesty is looking uncomfortable, but not unhappy – a common look for him, and one that’s given Harry no end of trouble as he tries to manage him. Gil is sitting up straight, burly and painted and strapped around with enough knives that he still manages to look intimidating despite the cheerful smile.

They’re not being too friendly. Harry doesn’t need to worry.

He thinks back over the week since he first dragged Ben aboard the _Lost Revenge_. When Mal had turned up to the 12 o’clock deadline empty handed, they’d had to make the call: pitch Ben into the sea on the spot, or switch from blackmailing Mal to blackmailing all of Auradon. Uma had picked the second option, and told Mal to deliver the terms. _We have your king. Set us all free, or we drown him._

The most tense moment had been on the second day, when Mal had delivered Auradon’s reply. _Release the king, and your trial will be more lenient._

‘Let’s send their letter back with some royal bloodstains on it!’ Jonas had shouted, grabbing Ben by the collar as the crew shouted fury all around them. Gil and Bonny were holding Mal and her friends back with the flats of their swords.

Harry had agreed with Jonas, but Uma kept a cool head. That was why she was captain. She’d quietened them down and let Ben speak.

‘Let me write to the council myself,’ he’d urged. ‘I’ll tell them that they’re to enter into negotiations with you. As far as I’m concerned you’re not guilty of any crime. You may have brought me here forcefully, but I understand why you did, and I’m happy to work with you until all of this is sorted out.’

Which was exactly what Harry would have said if he’d had a knife to his throat. But happy or not, Ben had written the letter, and that was when things had got complicated. Because bargaining chips don’t take part in negotiations.

The next letter from Auradon was a little more courteous but no more useful. The king’s council apologised for making hasty charges against Uma, daughter of Ursula, but the situation was unprecedented. The king’s council could not enter into official negotiations without all sorts of formalities. The king’s council could not make such a radical change to Auradon’s borders as the one demanded by Uma, without his majesty’s presence, approval, signature and seal.

Reading that letter, Harry had started to understand how his own father had learned his awful way of talking in circles. Just looking at it made his head spin.

‘It almost seems like they don’t believe that you want them to negotiate,’ Uma had said to Ben.

‘In fairness, I did write that letter at sword-point,’ Ben had replied.

‘Well, write something they will believe, then,’ Uma had ordered, hand on her sword. Ben had given a tiny smile that was too bland to be ironical, and written a summons telling his counsellors to come and negotiate with Uma face to face, on board the _Lost Revenge_.

By that point they’d given up on locking him in a cabin and set him free to scamper happily about the ship, and guarding him had shot up above all the other duties on Harry’s list. They needed him on-side, much as Uma hated it. They needed him to spill information about this council: who was signing the letters, who was writing them, who was deciding what went into them. And, if councillors were really coming to the ship, they needed Ben to not look too much like a miserable, ill-treated prisoner when they did.

Harry leans against the rail and thinks. Mal is due back this afternoon. He hopes she’s wearing holes in her shoes, traipsing back and forth between the ship and Auradon. If she really does bring members of the king’s council with her, what will happen next? Is it possible that, once Ben can speak to them directly, he’ll really order them to take the barrier down? Unlikely, but he has been spending a lot of time looking guilty, and Harry has heard that heroes do stupid things when they feel guilty. More likely Uma will repeat the threats that she made to Mal on the first day, but this time to people who actually have the power to give her what she wants. And with Ben right in front of them, they won’t be able to make any excuses about the king’s verbal assent.

What if they still refuse? What if they don’t come at all?

Harry runs his hand over his hook, and traces the line of Ben’s neck with his eyes as Ben talks to Gil and Mathilde.

‘So when the Fairy Godmother took out her wand to bless you at the coronation,’ Gil is asking Ben, ‘how did that work?’

‘Stop asking about the _wand_ ,’ Mathilde says, before Ben can reply. ‘We’re not planning on going after the wand any more, remember?’

‘I know that,’ Gil replies. ‘I’m just curious. Was she magically making you king? Why do you need magic to make somebody king?’

Nice, relevant questions, with enough irreverence from Mathilde to make them seem throwaway to Ben. Harry approves. 

‘It’s symbolic,’ Ben says.

‘That’s it?’ Mathilde says. ‘Take out the most important artefact in the kingdom, expose it to ranks of hysterical teenagers, just for a _symbol_?’

Harry gives a small snigger. Ben’s head twitches as he glances up, just briefly. He knows Harry’s watching. Good. Harry wouldn’t want him to get too comfortable.

‘It’s a magical symbol,’ Ben says.

‘So she _was_ doing magic on you!’ Gil exclaims. ‘Tell me how!’

‘Come on, I _know_ you know,’ Mathilde croons, leaning in close to Ben. He leans away. Harry smirks more widely.

‘Alright, I did study this in some depth.’ Ben gathers his thoughts. ‘It works something like this. There’s a bit of ambient magic in everything – ’

‘In us?’ Gil asks.

‘Stop inter _rupt_ ing!’ Mathilde says.

‘In us,’ Ben nods, ‘and a fairy’s wand acts as a kind of channel for good magic. So during the coronation, the wand channels the good magic from the land that the king rules into the king.’

‘So what if the wrong person tried to get made king?’ Mathilde asks.

‘That’s part of why we do it,’ Ben says.

‘What would _happen_?’ Mathilde presses. Ben looks at her for a long moment, then says,

‘Frog.’

Mathilde erupts into laughter. It sounds a little too genuine for Harry’s taste.

‘You said the wand channels all the good magic,’ Gil says. ‘What’s the difference between good magic and bad magic?’

‘Good magic is just one way of translating Old Faerie,’ Ben says. ‘ “Equal magic” or “just magic” might be better. Do you know how the fairies are in classical stories? If you do them a good turn, they’ll repay you, and if not…not? If they see a young girl being mistreated, they’ll give her beauty and good fortune to even things out.’

‘Or sometimes they find a girl who’s already a princess and give her beauty and good fortune to go with it,’ Harry puts in, leaning over the rail.

‘It’s how fairy magic usually works, not how all fairies choose to use it,’ Ben replies, as calmly as if Harry were a part of their conversation, and not a threatening eavesdropper. Harry pouts. ‘Though I suppose they would say that a princess needs to be _equally_ skilled in all the talents of ruling.’

‘Okay, tell me something else,’ Gil says.

‘Yeah, keep spilling state secrets, princey,’ Harry calls.

‘Oh, they’re not secrets,’ Ben says, in that painfully literal way he has. ‘They’re in books for anybody who cares to study them.’

 _Anybody in Auradon, maybe_ , Harry thinks. It’s all news to him.

‘So the wand does fair, balanced things,’ Gil says, ‘and Fairy Godmother used the wand to make the barrier, but Mal and Uma both thought they could use the wand to break the barrier. So who was right?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘It can’t do both, right? Barrier up and barrier down are opposite things.’

‘The wand can do anything,’ Ben says. ‘Well, almost anything. Fairy Godmother can use it however she chooses, but when my friend Jane had it and didn’t know how to aim it, I suppose it just did what seemed fairest.’

‘Excuse me, what seemed _fairest?_ ’ asks Mathilde.

‘It _decided?_ ’ asks Gil.

‘It’s a powerful magical artefact,’ says Ben, as if he hasn’t just dropped a bombshell, ‘but it can’t really think. And it sees things in black and white.’

Harry finds Uma at his shoulder. She stares down at the conversation below them.

‘Ever wish we’d stuck with Plan A?’ she asks, too quietly for the others to hear.

‘Sounds like the wand would’ve been on our side,’ Harry agrees.

‘Should’ve leant on Mal harder. Got the wand and busted out of here before those snakes in Auradon even knew we had their king.’ Uma sighs. ‘Well, too late now.’

She props herself comfortably against the rail. On the lower deck, Ben’s still talking.

‘That’s why my parents decided to retire magic, of course. You can’t let one fairy with a wand decide what justice is.’

‘That what your daddy says?’ Mathilde asks.

Harry and Uma share a glance. Of course that’s what King Beast says.

‘Mal should be here soon,’ Uma says to Harry, squinting up at the clouds, where a patch of brighter silver hints at the position of the sun.

‘Reckon she’ll bring those Auradonians councillors with her?’ Harry asks.

Uma _tsk_ s. ‘Who knows? Doubt it. They’ll probably have some excuse for why the king’s summons wasn’t valid.’ Her voice turned sarcastic. ‘Of course, if I sent him back to Auradon he’d have no difficulty giving them clear orders.’

‘He’s still asking you to let him go, is he?’

‘Asked me again this morning.’ Uma rolls her eyes.

‘What did you say?’

‘Laid on the guilt. Told him he’d forget all about us like he did before, whatever he’s promising now.’

‘Ouch,’ Harry says. ‘Consciences are _fun_.’ A pause. ‘Do you think he really would?’

Uma scoffs. ‘Just _listen_ to him,’ she says. ‘He’s not even pretending to think the barrier should come down. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. And he’s not leaving this ship until Auradon do what I say.’

‘So, who else has their own magic besides fairies?’ Gil is asking Ben. ‘Oh, wait, I know! Merpeople, like Uma’s mum…’

‘Djinn and genies,’ Ben adds. ‘And there are all sorts of old stories about different people having limited forms of magic. Pretty orphans, seventh sons of seventh sons…’

‘Princes and princesses?’ Mathilde suggests.

‘Of course,’ Ben agrees. ‘According to legend, the prince is always the hero, and the story comes together around him. As if by magic.’

‘Too bad magic doesn’t work on the Isle, eh, princey?’ Harry can’t resist calling. Ben looks up at him and twists a half-smile. His expression sharpens a little as he realises Uma has joined them.

‘That’s what I was referring to.’

‘This place neutralises all our charms,’ Harry says dolefully. ‘Besides, you’re king now. Does a prince lose all his magic powers when he becomes king? If so I think I’d rather keep the powers.’

‘A king has different powers,’ Ben says. ‘According to some lore, he can bind and loose, open and close, anywhere within the borders of his realm.’

‘ _Bor_ ing!’ Harry exclaims. ‘A king can do that because of the law; what’s the point of magic that says the same thing?’

‘I’m not sure I believe that lore,’ Uma says, ‘since it seems to be beyond you to open this barrier in your realm.’

‘Well, a king has to use his powers wisely,’ Ben says. He tries for the light tone he’s been using to describe all this half-believed magic, but guilt bleeds into his voice. Or maybe fear.

‘It might be wise for a king to use his powers in ways that preserve his safety,’ Uma says pointedly. Ben purses his lips. There’s a long pause.

‘Oh, that reminds me!’ Gil exclaims. Gil, bless him, can always be relied upon to break the silence. ‘Kings have healing powers, too.’

‘Oh, that’s absolutely true.’ Ben latches on to the idea. ‘My old tourney team all knew it. I’d lay hands on them whenever we had an injury. Team tradition. Nobody was ever off for more than a month.’

‘Could that be because wee boys’ games aren’t noted for maiming?’ Harry sneers.

‘Most likely,’ Ben agrees, but at the same time Gil says,

‘No, my dad stabbed his dad really badly when they were fighting, and the moment he broke his curse and turned back into a king he was fine.’

Ben looks at Gil. He doesn’t groan or curse or hit like a villain kid would when insulted; just looks.

‘Sorry, did you not want to talk about that?’ Gil asks.

‘It seems to me you have a right to know what happened,’ Ben replies. Harry isn’t at all sure how that follows. ‘Why are you asking me all this, anyway?’ he asks mildly.

‘Duh, because it’s _magic_!’ Gil exclaims. ‘I can’t believe you get to just live with it, everywhere. I expect you’re totally used to it.’

‘Not really,’ Ben says. ‘Like I said, it’s mostly retired.’

‘I cannot make you Auradonians out at all,’ Mathilde says. ‘Coolest and most useful force in the world at your fingertips, and you decide to stop using it?’

‘Well, for the most part…apart from the really powerful magics, like Fairy Godmother’s…you can’t really rely on it,’ Ben says. ‘Even powerful magics, actually. The wand isn’t safe unless you’ve got an expert to wield it. As for the prince magic and so on…well, most of it is just stories that grew up around successful rulers. My father says that most of them got where they are through hard work.’

‘Every time I think Auradon can’t get worse!’ Harry says.

‘Think about it sensibly,’ Ben says. ‘Imagine if I’d grown up relying on my innate magic instead of my wits. I’d be completely helpless trapped on a magic-suppressing Isle like this.’

Harry snorts. Uma gives a cool little chuckle. Ben looks delighted to have amused them.

‘Whereas now you’re completely helpless, but at least you’re used to it,’ Uma says.

‘Exactly so,’ Ben smiles.

‘So,’ Uma says. She moves to the stairs. Harry follows. ‘Ready for your girlfriend’s visit?’

‘She’s not my girlfriend any more,’ Ben says automatically. His smile fades.

‘I don’t know; I thought seeing you making tragic faces out on the plank might have changed her mind a bit,’ Mathilde says.

‘ _I_ don’t know either,’ Ben says. ‘We haven’t really had the chance to talk.’

He throws a glance at Uma. She just laughs again.

‘I know you don’t trust me not to try and plan something with her,’ Ben says, ‘but – ’

‘No, I don’t,’ Uma interrupts. ‘So, thought about how persuasive you’re going to be if your councillors show up today?’

‘Of course.’

‘Thought about what’ll happen next if they don’t?’ Harry asks. He holds his hook by the handle and at the top of the curve and spins.

‘Harry, you wouldn’t _hook_ him, would you?’ Mathilde asks.

‘I wouldn’t do anything that grieves you, sweet Mathilde,’ he says. She beams at him and blushes a little. She’s cute. And he’s barely had time for her all this last week. Barely had time for Gil, who’s watching him spin the hook, looking cheerful and calm and inscrutable. Uma’s barely had time for _him_. But they’ve all had time for the fucking guest of honour. Babysitting his majesty is turning into Harry’s full-time job.

‘You look tired,’ Uma says to Ben. ‘They’re going to say I’m mistreating you.’

‘I haven’t been sleeping too deeply,’ Ben says. ‘When I close my eyes, thoughts of the hook intrude.’

‘Oh my God, me too,’ Mathilde quips.

‘Do I need to call him off?’ Uma asks.

‘No,’ Ben says. ‘I was only joking. I’ve been thinking about how best to put your case across to the council.’

‘Good boy,’ Uma says quietly.

‘So my hook’s a joke now, is it?’ Harry mutters. ‘I must be losing my touch.’

He gives Ben a proper once-over. Cross-legged on the deck in his week-old villain clothes, he looks a lot more part of the scenery than he was when he first arrived. His skin is losing that glow that’s supposed to be something to do with living in the sunshine, and Harry knows he’s hungry, though he’s yet to hear him complain about it.

He wonders how long this negotiation would have to drag on for the king to end up looking exactly like the rest of them. Ironic, if this ends with the Isle trapping one more person, instead of letting them all go.

 _Well,_ Harry things, _revenge is better than nothing._

‘Captain!’ It’s Bonny, bellowing down from the crow’s nest. ‘Visitors incoming.’

‘Who is it, Bonny?’ Uma calls back.

‘Mal’s gang,’ Bonny says. ‘Alone.’

‘Hear that, princey?’ Harry asks. He’s not surprised. He’s not fucking surprised. ‘Never mind, I’m sure your flunkies have made their excuses. Let’s find out, eh?’

Gil and Mathilde get to their feet. Ben makes to get up too, but Harry extends his hand with a bow. Ben gives him a dubious look and takes it. Harry jerks him to his feet and swings his other arm around him to usher him towards the gang plank. It’s the arm with the hook. Harry feels Ben stiffen as the curve of it presses into the small of his back.

 _Don’t get too comfortable, princey_ , Harry thinks, as he responds to Ben’s sidelong glance with a blithe and reassuring smile.

He doesn’t need to be in the crow’s nest now to make out the Auradon four. They’re making their way along the docks, Evie’s and Mal’s hair making bright spots in the murk.

‘I’m sorry,’ Ben says. ‘It was a royal summons; they ought to have come.’

‘Oh, you’ll be sorry, alright,’ Harry murmurs. ‘Our captain’s not one for idle threats.’

The crew have gathered, in the rigging or on the deck, forming a menacing line. Uma strides forward and gets one foot on the gangplank.

‘You’ve got a lot of nerve, coming back here alone,’ she shouts without preamble.

‘Maybe it’s time you accepted that trying to blackmail the government of Auradon is crazy,’ Mal snaps back. ‘You can’t force them to do what you want.’

‘Is that so? Well in that case I suppose there’s no need for me to hang on to _this_ , is there?’ Uma says. Harry takes that as his cue and shoves Ben towards the plank. Mal takes a step back, her face showing a flicker of alarm that quickly turns to anger.

‘Harry, quit it; he did what you asked,’ Carlos shouts. ‘He didn’t do anything wrong. _Harry_!’

‘Looks like you need a crash course in how hostage-taking works, De Ville.’ Harry flourishes his hook. ‘If you refuse our demands, we…’

‘Quit the theatrics,’ Mal says. Her snappish tone can’t quite hide her alarm. ‘I’m here with an alternative offer.’

Harry looks to Uma. She hasn’t actually told him what they were going to do with Ben if this happened. He stares at her face, trying to read which way she’s leaning. She’s watching Mal intently, giving nothing away. The crew are ready. Bonny growls; Jonas puts his hand on his cutlass. Ben’s wound tight with tension; Harry can feel it through his arm. He shifts, maybe to try and speak to Mal or Uma, maybe just trying to put some distance between himself and Harry’s hook. Harry tightens his grip on Ben’s collar and holds him still.

 _Our captain doesn’t make idle threats_ , Harry thinks. His heart is beating fast.

‘Are the council scared to set foot here on my ship?’ Uma asks. ‘They’ve got no cause to be. I’ve been the soul of courtesy to my guest here, and I’ll continue to be that.’

There’s a discontented mutter from the crew. Harry lets go of Ben and takes a step back. Ben turns to Uma.

‘Thank you – ’ he says.

‘Don’t thank her for not _hurting_ you!’ Carlos protests.

‘ – for your patience,’ Ben finishes. ‘The people in Auradon just need a little while to get used to the idea of communicating with the Isle.’

Uma gives him one faintly approving glance, and then jerks her chin at Mal.

‘Come aboard, then,’ she says. ‘Safe conduct as usual.’ The four of them climb up the gangplank. ‘What’s this offer?’

‘Read it and find out,’ Mal says. She’s got a heavy parchment envelope in her hand, which she thrusts forward. Uma raises one eyebrow as she takes it between finger and thumb.

‘We’ll go below,’ she says. ‘Gil, Harry, with me. Bonny, you’re in charge up here. Watch out in case anybody’s followed our visitors.’ As Mal’s gang make to follow her, she holds up a hand to stop them. ‘No need for all of you to come; our cabins aren’t that big. You three can wait for Mal up here.’

‘You’re not splitting us up!’ Mal snarls. Uma rolls her eyes.

‘You need somebody to hold your hand? Fine, pick one.’

‘You’ve got two! Harry and Gil.’

‘And you’ve got two. King Ben and…?’ Uma trails off questioningly.

‘Come on, Mal,’ Ben appeals. Maybe he finds this whole back and forth as tedious as Harry does. ‘Why would Uma want to hurt you now?’

‘Fine,’ Mal says. ‘Jay, then.’

‘Alright!’ Harry exclaims. Jay glowers at him as he stalks forward to take up a protective stance at Mal’s shoulder. Uma shakes her head as she turns and walks to the hatch that leads below deck.

She leads them down the stairs into the narrow corridor that runs the length of the ship’s belly, and from there to the largest cabin. It makes Harry’s fingers itch to see her walking with her back to Mal in the narrow space. He’s watching, of course, but he’s got King Ben and Jay between himself and her. He comforts himself with the thought that Mal would never fight her way off the ship if she double-crossed them down below.

Uma’s excuse about small cabins wasn’t just an excuse. There’s barely enough space to accommodate all six of them, never mind the three they’ve left up on deck. There’s an awkward shuffle as they all try to squeeze in around the table.

‘Hello, _Jay_ ,’ Harry coos. ‘Come on, your majesty; you can sit between him and me.’ 

‘D’you have to be _like that_?’ Jay grumbles.

‘He doesn’t like ambiguities, our Jay,’ Harry tells Ben conspiratorially. ‘They tax him. When I act friendly he gets confused.’

‘You shouldn’t be unkind about my friends,’ Ben replies. Jay laughs, and Harry forces a smile.

‘He’s quite plucky, your king,’ he says to Jay. ‘Hardly scared of me at all anymore.’

‘He was never scared of me, so I don’t know what he’d be scared of you, Hook,’ Jay says.

‘Oh, please. You’ve always been the honey trap of your crew, not the muscle.’

‘Takes one to know one,’ Jay says.

‘You flatter me,’ Harry says, ‘though I’d like to think I can do both. Wouldn’t you say, Benjamin?’

‘I don’t even know what a honey trap is,’ Ben replies.

‘He’s kidding, right?’ Gil asks Jay, squeezing his bulk into the seat next to Uma’s. Jay just shrugs.

‘How come they keep sending you lot to deliver these things, anyway?’ Harry asks, slinging his arm across the back of Ben’s chair. He’s trying to catch Mal’s eye as he speaks. Having Uma’s rivals on board and not being able to hook them is deeply terrible, but at least he can get a little entertainment out of it. ‘Doesn’t Auradon have messengers for that kind of thing?’

‘I don’t think Auradonians like the idea of coming over here much,’ Jay says.

‘Afraid to get their boots muddy?’ Harry asks.

‘Pretty much,’ Jay says. He gives Harry a significant look, which Harry returns before he can help it. You can take the villain off the Isle…

‘We’re happy to do it,’ Mal says unconvincingly. Time was Mal wouldn’t have popped around the corner to deliver a message without asking what was in it for her. _Obliging_ isn’t a good look on her. Not for the first time, Harry wonders if he even _wants_ to leave the Isle if it means ending up like that. 

‘Harry’s right; you shouldn’t have to do this,’ Ben says. ‘Especially since –’ He cuts off.

‘It’s a job for a lady of the court?’ Harry suggests. Mal makes an unhappy face; Ben gives Harry a look that’s _almost_ a scowl.

‘We have diplomats for this,’ he says to Mal. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Your father asked me personally to be involved, since I know the Isle,’ Mal says.

‘Yeah, and he also asked this one to be king at sixteen,’ Harry says, giving Ben a nudge.

‘I was ready,’ Ben says.

‘Mmm,’ Harry hum sceptically.

Uma settles herself at the head of the table. She somehow manages to take up space, even though she’s squashed in like everyone else. A tiny shift of her body language, and they all know they’re done settling and ready to begin. It even works on Mal.

 _Good as a magic trick_ , Harry thinks.

‘Alright,’ Uma says. ‘Let’s see what kind of offer was good enough to bet poor Benjamin on.’

She breaks the seal on the letter and shakes it open. She’s smirking slightly as she starts to read.

Mal and Jay share a significant glance, and then Jay looks to Ben. Harry locks on to the motion, just in case there’s any silent communication going on, but all Jay does is look soppy and reassuring. Ben gives him a wan smile back.

Harry looks back to Uma, and Uma’s smirk is gone.

She was looking at the letter; looking for Mal’s benefit. Now she’s reading. Her eyes dart back and forth, and her expression grows more closed and more intent with every second. Harry looks at Mal. Her face is just as closed as Uma’s, but Harry thinks he can spot a trace of satisfaction there.

It’s a threat. Something they haven’t predicted. But how? The crew’s all accounted for. He’s right here, Uma’s right here, Gil’s right here. A threat to punish them somehow, imprison them somewhere worse? No, Auradon can’t try to arrest them without losing Ben, that’s the whole point of having a hostage…

Their parents; old King Beast must have cut a deal with one of their parents. Harry didn’t think they’d left any cracks for a tentacle to wriggle into, but trust one of them to think of something. Maleficent’s in Auradon; they could have asked her; or Uma’s mother; his da; the old man’s down and out, but if there’s one thing he knows it’s how to stab in the back.

Would the Auradonians really deal with a first-generation villain to avoid dealing with Uma?

Harry finds he’s inching out of his chair. What if whatever’s threatened in the letter is happening _right now_? He’d have to scramble across Mal’s lap to get out from behind the table. For all they know the ship’s surrounded by all the enemies who are jealous of Uma – 

‘I have a sense of _déjà vu_.’ Uma lowers the letter with a swish. Harry jumps. His heart is racing. ‘I feel like I saw this very letter a year ago…well, I suppose _I_ didn’t see it. Not many of us did.’

‘So bitter about not being first in line that you’re not going to take your turn when it comes?’ Mal asks.

‘Have a read of that, Harry,’ Uma says, tossing the letter across the table. The parchment lands in front of him with a _splat_ and he snatches it up. Uma meets his eyes for a split-second before she settles back carelessly in her chair.

‘What does it say, Uma?’ Gil asks.

‘Wait a minute,’ she replies.

‘What does it say?’ Ben says urgently, trying to read over Harry’s shoulder.

‘Wait a _minute_ ,’ Harry echoes. He holds up his hook to keep Ben back as he starts to read.

‘Would you get that thing out of his face?’ Mal demands.

‘Hush, pixie, this calligraphy’s hard enough to decipher without you yammering on,’ Harry says. The script reminds him of the copperplate writing his father used to try and drill into him. It dances in front of his eyes even worse than normal print. He scans, picking out a word here and there, trying to get the gist.

‘What does it _say_?’ Gil asks again.

‘Tell him, Harry,’ Uma drawls.

‘It _seems_ to be saying,’ Harry says, ‘that you’re invited to Auradon.’

‘Really?’ Gil exclaims.

‘Let me see,’ Ben begs. Harry looks to Uma. She gives permission with a flick of her eyes, and Harry tilts the letter forward so that Ben can snatch it out of his hand.

‘I knew it!’ he says, looking from the page to Uma and back again. ‘I knew they’d see the sense in what you were saying; I knew they’d want to meet you!’

‘You’re going to go see what it’s like out there!’ Gil says joyfully. Jay cracks a little smile.

 _Shut up_ , Harry wants to snap at Gil. _Can’t you see this is bad?_ He’s thinking furiously. On the surface, it doesn’t look like a bad offer – it’s definitely progress from what they’ve had before – but Uma doesn’t like it, and Harry needs to work out why.

Uma waits. She waits for Gil and Ben to catch her mood. She waits for Mal and Jay stop looking so fucking smug and start wondering what she’s going to actually say.

‘This isn’t what I asked for,’ she tells Mal then.

‘But it’s what you wanted,’ Mal replies.

Uma laughs out loud, but Harry sees her hands shake, sees her swallow before she speaks again. He’s torn between being afraid that she’ll explode and wishing that she would.

‘I was quite plain about what I wanted,’ she says, so quietly that the tremor of rage in her voice is barely discernible. ‘I asked for the barrier down. When I was told it couldn’t be done without the king’s presence, I told them to send someone here. I didn’t ask to go to Auradon.’

‘ _I_ want to go to Auradon!’ Gil says. Harry stretches out a leg under the table and kicks him hard.

‘Do you think I don’t know a _trap_ when I see it?’ Uma half-shouts.

‘What, you think we were born yesterday?’ Harry adds. He feels like he’s just about reading from the right script again.

‘Uma, you’d be perfectly safe,’ Mal says.

‘You guarantee that personally?’ Uma asks her.

‘Of course,’ Mal says at once.

‘Thank you. So tell me. Say someone in Auradon does go back on their word. What are you going to do to ensure my safety?’

‘I’m sure they’d let you bring Harry and Gil with you,’ Mal says weakly. Uma snorts.

‘My boys are good, but not against an army,’ she says. ‘And besides, I notice that they’re not suggesting I come to them while the king stays here.’ She nods at Ben. ‘They’re suggesting that he and I go to the mainland _together_. I’m sorry; if they want to trick me out of my hostage they’re going to have to do better than that. You can tell Auradon I respectfully decline.’

‘Great. Does that mean we can leave?’ Mal half-rises.

‘You can wait on deck while I decide how to salt my reply,’ Uma snaps. ‘Gil, escort them up on deck, and put Desiree and Gonzo in charge of them. Take his majesty to Mathilde and have her wait with him in his cabin. Then fetch Bonny and Jonas and bring them back down here.’

‘Yes, Uma.’ Gil jumps to his feet.

‘Back and forth,’ Jay sighs. ‘You know if you came to Auradon you could debate the council face to face? Things might go quicker that way.’ 

‘You know this would go a lot quicker if they just met my demand,’ Uma replies. ‘Barrier down. Is that so hard?’

Jay sighs. He looks careworn, not rogueish like he always used to do. Harry’s not at _all_ sure he wants to go to Auradon.

‘Cabin for Ben and deck for us?’ Mal says. ‘Really? You’re not even going to let Ben have a moment with us?’

‘A moment alone? Absolutely not,’ Uma says.

‘Uma, I would like to talk to – to them, please,’ Ben says. ‘No plotting, I promise.’

‘Alright, take a moment,’ Uma says, ‘but stay in here.’

‘Seriously?’ Mal exclaims.

‘Anything you want to say to his majesty, you can say in front of us, right?’ Harry weighs in.

‘Not necessarily,’ Mal says, ‘though I wouldn’t expect you to understand that, Harry, since you made like a Lost Boy and _never grew up_.’

‘I don’t need you hatching any more escape plans,’ Uma says. ‘Take it or leave it.’

‘Thank you,’ Ben says. He pushes his chair back and stands up, but there’s barely room for him to do that, and then he has to balance there awkwardly while Harry pulls right in to the table to let him squeeze behind him. ‘Thank you,’ Ben repeats as he shuffles past.

‘Miss you already,’ Harry replies.

‘Shut up, Harry,’ Mal says. ‘Don’t _thank_ them, Ben.’

She and Ben go off into a little huddle in the corner of the cabin. They keep their voices so low to avoid being heard that Harry is surprised they can hear each other. They keep pausing and giving little glances back at the table.

They don’t hug, though Mal does put her hand on Ben’s shoulder at one point. Ben turns and looks at Harry, or maybe at Uma; Harry can’t tell. He winks, just to be on the safe side.

‘Really think you’re something, don’t you, Hook?’ Jay says.

‘Wouldn’t you like to find out?’ Harry asks. Jay scoffs. Harry taps his hook on the table. ‘Soon, maybe,’ he says.

‘Harry,’ Uma says quellingly.

‘That’s right, don’t forget we’re in a truce, _first mate_ ,’ Jay says.

‘Don’t forget you’re leading the negotiations,’ Harry says. ‘Seems a civil service career runs in the family.’

‘…don’t worry about me, I’m very comfortable,’ Ben says audibly.

‘I know it can’t be what you’re used to,’ Mal says.

‘Well, I’m learning,’ Ben says.

‘His sea legs are coming on,’ Harry puts in. Mal rounds on him.

‘Would you _shut up_ ,’ she says, ‘and let us talk for two – ’

‘You’re on my ship,’ Uma cuts her off. ‘Gil, see them out.’

She waits, leaning forward with her arms braced firmly on the table, until the door shuts. Then she turns to Harry.

‘Uma – ’ he says.

‘This is bad,’ she replies.

‘They can’t seriously think we’d walk into something like that,’ Harry says.

‘They don’t,’ Uma says. ‘But it’s not just a trap. It’s a distraction.’

‘A distraction? From what?’

‘From getting rid of this prison for good.’ Uma glances towards the door. ‘You’ll see what I mean.’

Harry’s not sure he does. ‘If they really would let you out…’ he says, changing tack, ‘…you don’t have to just walk into whatever’s waiting for you at the palace. Once you’re outside the barrier, you could give them the slip somehow, and then you’d be free.’

‘What about you and the crew?’

‘You’d find a way to come back for us later.’ Harry’s heart squeezes. The thought of her leaving is terrible, but the thought of her trapped here forever because he was too selfish to suggest otherwise is worse. ‘If it’s a chance…maybe we should consider it.’

‘That’s exactly what I’m talking about,’ Uma says darkly. ‘Never mind. We’ve also got to decide what to do with Ben. Since they’ve ignored all my demands.’

‘Aw, hell, I forgot about that,’ Harry mutters.

‘Seems like everybody on this ship forgot. We’re all getting too damned cosy with him. Think on it now. I hear the others.’

There’s footsteps on the stairs. Harry runs his fingers over his hook, trying to look collected as he chews over the problem. That’s three times now that Auradon’s refused to do what Uma asked, and they’re running out of excuses. It’s clear that Uma’s going to have to retaliate soon if she wants them to think her threats are credible at all. Poor little king. 

He feels a twisted sort of relief that this whole charade might soon be over, but it’s tempered with fear. What will Auradon _do_ to them if they throw Ben to the sharks? There’s got to be a worse punishment than the Isle for people who commit regicide.

It feels pointless. If threatening the king didn’t force Auradon to act, they won’t act after he’s dead. But Uma swore they would do it.

Is she going to have Harry do it?

‘Captain.’ Jonas opens the door to the cabin. Bonny and Gil are right behind him. ‘What news?’

‘Come in and close the door,’ Uma says. ‘Gil, where’s the king?’

‘In his cabin with Mathilde,’ Gil replies.

‘And Mal?’

‘On deck, under guard, like you said.’

‘Good,’ Uma says. She looks around the table. Jonas is the oldest on the crew; twenty five years of survival on the Isle makes him a force to be reckoned with all by itself. And Bonny’s father, unlike all the villains who’d relied on magic in their glory days, had actually had something useful to teach her about leadership and combat. Not to mention Shan Yu is one of the Isle’s straightest dealers and has a following that nobody wants to tangle with. A sort of tacit alliance with him has helped Uma get where she is, and in return Bonny has a seat at the table.

‘So, first things first,’ Uma says. ‘I told Auradon to send members of their council to negotiate with us, and Auradon hasn’t done it.’

‘So we’ve got to kill the king,’ Jonas says at once.

‘Really?’ Gil says. ‘It’s not his fault the council ignored what we said.’

‘That’s not how hostage-taking works, Gilly,’ Jonas says. It’s exactly the same exchange Harry had with Carlos a few minutes ago. He wonders, not for the first time, if he’s let Gil get too friendly with the king.

‘Let’s not be too hasty,’ Bonny says. ‘If we kill him now, sure, we’ll prove to Auradon that we don’t make idle threats – and for what? We’ll never be in a position to make them a threat again. I think there’s something to be said for spinning this out longer...’

‘If we can persuade them to take us seriously again after they’ve called our bluff once,’ Jonas concedes.

‘If we hurt Ben, the people in Auradon will be angry with us,’ Gil says. ‘They’ll want to punish us.’

‘That’s true,’ Bonny agrees. ‘Hell, it’d probably be safer to turn him loose and apologise than take whatever we’d get for snuffing him. What do you think, Captain? Quit while we’re ahead?’

Uma often does this: lets debates grind on, sometimes for minutes and minutes, before she speaks. She always knows the lay of the land by the time she opens her mouth. Now she stays silent, acknowledges Bonny’s question with a glance and raises her eyebrow at Jonas, who’s clearly desperate to reply.

‘Safer from King Beast, maybe,’ he says, ‘but we’ve got to think about our reputation at home. If we’re _not_ getting off the Isle, that’s going to be more important than ever. What’re all the other gangs going to think if we roll over and show our bellies to Auradon? Hell, half our parents would already be cutting up the hostage just for the fun of it; what will they think of us if we don’t?’

‘So we rough him up a bit, maybe,’ Bonny says. ‘Show we mean business, but we don’t lose our leverage.’

‘After I’ve worked so hard to make him feel welcome?’ Harry speaks up. He’s thinking fast. If Uma intended to kill Ben, she’d have said so the moment Jonas suggested it. She’s planning something else. Harry needs to stir things up a little, help her test the waters. ‘He’s been very obliging so far; he might not stay that way if you go mistreating him.’

‘It has made things easier to have him cooperating,’ Bonny agrees cautiously. 

‘He might be all the more docile for a little incentive,’ Jonas counters. ‘If you’re feeling squeamish, Bonny, I’ll swing the sword myself.’

‘If there’s hooking to be done, I’ll do it,’ Harry says, before Bonny can take offense at that. His stomach squirms again, but he ignores it. He’s first mate. This kind of thing is his responsibility.

‘If we hook him, Auradon’ll be mad at us,’ Gil repeats. ‘Madder’n they are already.’

Uma uncrosses her legs. They all turn to her at once.

‘Gil makes a good point,’ she says. ‘When Harry nicked the king, I don’t mind telling you I was afraid he was going to bring down all kinds of fire on our heads. Well, for now that hasn’t happened; Auradon are dealing with us fairly peacefully. I’d like that to continue. There’s an argument for not escalating if we don’t have to.’

‘Suppose there’s something to be said for showing them that we’ll play nice as long as they do,’ Jonas says.

‘Exactly,’ Uma nods.

‘So I _still_ don’t get to have any fun?’ Harry asks dolefully. Uma gives him a scathing look.

‘I don’t think it would be much fun to hurt him,’ Gil says.

‘We know, Gilly,’ Bonny says. ‘So, we’re not harming the hostage for now.’ Harry lets his grip go slack on his hook. ‘We need to figure out how we’re going to spin that to the rest of the Isle so’s we don’t look weak.’

‘On that topic,’ Uma says, ‘how would you like to see what they wrote to me?’

‘There’s something worth reading in that letter?’ Jonas asks in surprise. ‘It doesn’t just say to fuck off?’

‘You tell me,’ Uma says, passing him the letter. Bonny leans in to him so that they can both read. They go through the exact same process that Uma did: faces suddenly growing more serious, gaze more intent. Then Bonny looks up.

‘You leaving us, Captain?’ she asks, in an oddly strained voice.

‘She never would!’ Gil says at once. Jonas swallows. Harry thinks he’s starting to see why Uma was so angry about this letter.

Now that his initial shock is over, he’s realising that of course Uma has to accept the invitation; it’s the only sensible option. Once she’s there in Auradon, she can keep on at the king and make him negotiate for the rest of them. And even if she fails, or if she _does_ forget about them like Mal did, well; if just one of them is going to escape, it ought to be the captain. Better her than none of them.

But the rest of the crew might not see it that way. Some of them are going to feel abandoned. Auradon have put Uma in a position where the sensible choice is going to spread dissent in the crew; no wonder she’s angry. Harry keeps his eyes on Bonny and Jonas. Surely they aren’t going to start mistrusting her _now_? He shifts, checking the weight of his short-sword under his coat, just in case, just in case…

‘I never would,’ Uma says. ‘Let’s get that straight right away.’

‘I’m sorry, Captain,’ Bonny says. ‘It’s just, it seemed like the best shot we might get, and I thought…’

‘It’s no shot at all,’ Uma says gruffly. She looks touched by the apology.

‘Obvious trick to get us to hand Ben back,’ Jonas says. ‘Though, what if you went over there and he stayed here…?’

‘The whole problem is that his council won’t do anything unless they hear it direct from him,’ Uma says shortly, ‘so that doesn’t work.’

‘No. Damn.’ Jonas subsides.

‘Wait, I just had an idea,’ Gil says. ‘What if after you got there, you asked them if we could all come too? Once they see what you’re like – ’

‘Hold up,’ Bonny says. ‘Gil, that’s an idea. That’s an _idea_!’ She stares at the letter again. ‘Oh my God, Captain, you’re a genius.’

‘Of course I am,’ Uma says. ‘What are you thinking?’

‘Set the bar high, let them bargain you down,’ Bonny says. ‘This, this is it!’ She shakes the letter. ‘You asked them to take the barrier down, and they’re not, they’re never going to do that, but they want their king back, so they need to offer us something, so they offer us…this.’

‘The same pity invite the king offered Mal when he was bored?’ Uma asks coldly.

‘They’ll amend it!’ Bonny says. ‘They’ve found an offer they can live with making – that you can come to Auradon – and once they’ve made it, what’s a few kids more or less? Write back and say you’ll accept the terms, as long as they let you bring – oh, Harry and Gil, enough to watch your back in a strange place, they can’t argue with that. And that’s a foot in the door! You’ll figure a way to get the rest of us over there sooner or later.’

‘Mal already said Uma could bring bodyguards,’ Gil says.

‘Hell, they might even amend it to include the whole crew right off the bat!’ Jonas says excitedly.

Harry blinks. It seems they’re not taking the idea of Uma going to Auradon as a betrayal after all.

‘I want to go,’ Gil says. ‘Do you think King Ben would let me go to school? We could learn about penguins.’

‘You _guys_.’ Uma reaches across the table to snatch the letter out of Bonny’s hand. She slams it down onto the table. ‘This is _bait_.’

‘You reckon they’re planning a double-cross?’ Jonas asks. ‘Get you to come over, then arrest you the moment you step foot on shore?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Bonny says. ‘If we went to Auradon at the king’s invitation, I think he’d feel honour-bound to protect us. Heroes are idiots about their honour. And he already likes us a little. Harry’s done good work.’

‘Better than any love potion, our first mate,’ Jonas adds.

Harry smirks and inclines his head, thinking too fast to come up with any kind of quip. He knows that Uma hates currying favour with the king, hates the idea of going to Auradon at his invitation, but is that the only reason why she’s got a face like thunder now?

He can’t see the problem. The invitation could have been divisive, but now that Jonas and Bonny are on board with it, surely the rest of the crew will fall in line. If they can put Jonas’s plan into action and persuade Auradon to invite not just Uma but the whole crew, the problem will disappear altogether. But Uma looks more worried than ever, and there must be a reason. Harry’s dangerously behind.

‘I’m not betting all your safety on the king’s grace,’ Uma says, very quietly. ‘And besides, we’ll never really be free as long as the Isle is here. We put one toe out of line, they can send us back. I want the barrier down for good.’

‘I hear you,’ Bonny says, ‘but it’s still a better position than we’re in now.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ Harry says. Uma doesn’t like Auradon’s offer, so he’s going to keep the argument going until he figures out why not. He scrambles for an objection. ‘Even if his majesty protects us from physical harm, they might have other ways of messing with us. You saw how quickly they brought Mal to heel. Personally I’d rather rot here than be Auradon’s lapdog.’

‘I’d like to see them try to crack our captain,’ Bonny says, looking warmly at Uma.

‘Hold up,’ Jonas says. ‘We’re coming at this all wrong. I have an idea.’

‘Tell on,’ Uma says. She’s barely flickered a smile at Bonny’s compliment.

‘Who says our only options are the Isle or Auradon?’ Jonas asks. ‘What if we trade the king for a ship and supplies? We can sail…’

‘Where?’ Uma asks.

‘Somewhere better than here. Hell, they’d probably be glad to see the back of us.’

‘They’d be more likely to release the whole crew to sail off somewhere than to live in Auradon,’ Gil agrees, ‘and there’s no way they could mess with us or get us to change what we believe if we’re not even living there. Plus I’d love to sail all around the world!’

Bonny’s nodding. Harry can see the sense in the idea – something like a pirate’s life, not shackled to this dock, but for real. But Uma breaks in.

‘So you think that’s a win, do you? Sailing off into the sunset with one victualled ship to our names? Reckon we’d do pretty well for ourselves in some strange country we know nothing about?’

‘Well, it was just a suggestion,’ Jonas says, looking put out. ‘And a strange country might be better than here. Plus, I’d rather take the barrier down than live here forever, but I didn’t love the idea of all our parents on the loose. This could be our chance to get clean away.’

‘And be pirates!’ Gil says eagerly, and it’s all Harry can do not to cheer along with him, but Uma’s not happy, so he bites his tongue.

‘Speak for yourself,’ Bonny says. ‘My father’s always been a friend to this crew, but I doubt Auradon would let him out, even if we promised to sail away and take him with us. Maybe we should stick with the captain’s plan. Barrier down.’

‘I’d miss Shan Yu as well,’ Jonas says, ‘but this is our shot.’

‘Really?’ Uma’s voice unfurls across the table like a whip-crack. Suddenly she’s not letting them debate any more. Suddenly she’s the captain. ‘That’s all you have to say about it? That you’d miss him? Have you forgotten how we built this crew? We honour our allies. We pay our debts.’

‘We take our chances,’ Jonas argues, ‘like anybody on this Isle would do.’

Harry shares a glance with Gil. It’s almost unheard of for somebody to keep arguing with Uma once she’s using that tone. Bonny looks uneasy as well.

‘Their chances led them here; forgive me if I’m not racing to follow in their footsteps,’ Uma says coldly. ‘What about Facilier? He’s always dealt fairly with us. What about Celia? I had her marked for the crew when she was old enough. What about the Smee twins?’

‘They’re not crew,’ Jonas says. ‘So maybe they were going to be. But they’re not. We can’t claim that every kid on the Isle is in this crew.’

‘Can’t we?’ Uma says. ‘Against Auradon, we’re all crew. I thought we all agreed it was lower than low when Mal forgot she was a villain kid. Didn’t think you’d forget it. That’s how we survive. We look out for each other.’

‘We look out for _each other_ , yes,’ Jonas says. ‘Not for every sorry schmuck who can’t look out for himself. That’s some hero rubbish.’

‘Not wanting to leave all that potential to rot on the Isle makes me a hero?’ Uma says. Her voice drops suddenly, turning soft and deadly as snow.

‘Every little lost kid on this Isle isn’t our problem,’ Jonas says. ‘I reckon you always let Harry go soft on that Tremaine kid. I reckon you’re soft over all those kids.’

Harry’s chair bangs as he leaps to his feet. He grabs Jonas’ hair and jams the hard curve of his hook into his trachea, cutting off the rest of his speech. It doesn’t feel like enough. Jonas ought to be pumping out his life right now for a comment like that. Anything less is pure weakness. But deference to Uma keeps Harry from acting without her permission, and he’s glad of the excuse.

‘Out the door or over the side, Captain?’ he asks, giving Jonas a shake.

‘Hold him there,’ Uma says. ‘Hear this, Jonas. I will not take Auradon’s scraps. I will not take a deal that they can go back on the moment they get the chance. And I won’t run. We are going to have everything they have. Not because it’s easy. Not because it’s what’s best for the crew. Because – it’s – our – _right_!’

There’s a horrible silence. Bonny and Gil look like they don’t dare speak. Harry hardly dares himself.

‘Uma, I didn’t mean – ’ Jonas tries.

‘Just shut up,’ Uma says, turning away, her voice witheringly disappointed. ‘Harry, put him outside if he’s got nothing useful to say.’

Harry hauls Jonas round by his collar to face the door, but at that moment it bursts open from the outside and Gonzo dashes in.

‘Captain, we’ve got company – ’ he begins, then stops when he sees how tense the whole room is. ‘I’m sorry – ’

‘Don’t worry,’ Uma says glibly. ‘What do you mean, company?’

‘Uh…your dad,’ Gonzo says. He looks at Harry, then at Gil. ‘And yours.’

Harry shoves Jonas away from him. This is absolutely the last thing they need. ‘So you sent them away with a few puncture wounds, right?’ he asks.

‘They say they want to know how things are going with the prisoner,’ Gonzo says.

Uma sighs.

‘Hostage, Gonzo,’ she says. ‘Keep it polite. His majesty himself claims he’s not a prisoner.’ She gives Harry a loaded glance. Harry winces. Ben’s insistence that he’s _willing_ to work with them to solve their problems – though he could do it so much more efficiently from the safety of his throne, _of course_ – is yet another headache on a list that’s growing unmanageably long.

‘Let’s see what they want,’ Uma says grimly.

She steps out into the passage. Harry follows, and the others come tumbling after him. Jonas looks heartily relieved to have the attention off him. He also keeps glancing at Bonny. Harry wonders whether he’d like to have a little whisper to her behind Uma’s back, and whether Bonny would whisper back. He slows, keeping pace with them so that they can’t fall behind and talk unheard.

‘What’s going on?’ They’re halfway to the stairs that lead up to the deck when Mathilde comes tumbling out of Ben’s cabin, blocking the narrow corridor. ‘I heard that our parents – ’

‘Hook and Gaston,’ Gonzo says. Mathilde curses. Behind her, Ben is peeking out of the cabin like a baby puffin out of its nest. Harry finds he wants nothing more than to give his highness a smack. It’s all his fault Hook is sniffing around.

‘It’s too close quarters for loitering,’ Uma calls. ‘Mathilde, Gonzo, Bonny, Jonas – move on up, and look alive. I’m right behind you.’ They obey. Uma turns to Ben. ‘Stay below,’ she says. ‘Harry, Gil, watch him.’ She moves off up the corridor with a swish of braids.

‘Come on, Ben,’ Gil says. He takes Ben around the shoulders, a mix of reassurance and control that Harry’s never quite managed to pull off.

‘Can I meet him?’ Ben asks. ‘Your…your father?’

‘Trust me, you don’t want to,’ says Gil.

‘Our parents aren’t all as charming as we are, princey,’ Harry says.

‘I don’t expect I’ll enjoy it,’ Ben says, ‘I just – ’

‘Captain _said_ to stay below.’ Harry closes the gap between them, putting his hook up under Ben’s chin to underline the point. Maybe it’s overkill, but he’s feeling a little on edge. Ben stops mid-sentence, glancing down at the hook and then up at Harry’s face. Harry wonders, not for the first time, whether they might not have miscalculated a bit with the whole ‘ _charm the king so that he’ll cooperate’_ plan. Ben looks more concerned about the proximity and eye contact than the hook, and he doesn’t even look like he’s going to break the eye contact any time soon. But at least he’s stopped talking. That’s the main thing.

‘Just do as you’re told,’ Harry says, and turns to hurry after Uma. She’s climbing through the hatch onto the deck, and he needs to be flanking her when she faces his father – 

Gil catches his elbow. ‘Don’t go talk to him,’ he says quietly.

‘I’m first mate,’ Harry snaps. He glances over his shoulder. Ben’s still mostly outside his cabin, craning his neck to try and see up the corridor. Unbelievable. ‘Watch him if you’re not coming up,’ Harry tells Gil, and puts on a spurt of speed to catch up with Uma.

He emerges onto the deck, and there’s the Auradon four, standing there stiff and awkwardly, the way you do when there’s an obvious crisis but it’s not your ship to defend.

‘You have visitors,’ Mal calls.

‘So I’ve heard,’ Uma replies.

‘They’re here for Ben,’ Carlos says urgently.

‘ _Nooooo_ , I’m sure it’s just a little family visit,’ Harry says.

‘Harry, get below and help Gil watch the king,’ Uma says. ‘The rest of you, with me.’ She takes off for the upper deck. Mal’s lot seem to have decided to make themselves useful for once; they follow her without comment. Harry has to admit that more bodies on deck is probably a good thing right now.

Uma steps up onto the rail like it’s another step in the staircase, and then into the rigging. Harry follows her up; Jonas gets her other side, a wicked-looking knife already in his hand. Mal keeps her boots on the deck. She leans against the rail with that spaced-out expression of hers; the one that suggests her enemy is too boring to be worth her time. Much as he hates her, Harry’s glad to see that face on their side of the water.

‘There she is!’ a voice calls from the docks. ‘The pirate queen herself.’

‘Great,’ Carlos mutters. ‘It’s Lefou.’

Harry leans out over the water to get a good view of the docks. Sure enough, there he is, that little sidekick who never seemed to get enough of being kicked around by Gaston. And if Gaston’s brought his entourage, Hook will have too…yes, there’s Mr Smee, same old red-knit hat pulled down over his ears. Behind them is a fair crowd of people, though rather fewer than Uma has on board the _Revenge_. He can’t see Harriet or CJ, but both Gaston Jrs are there, along with Carlos’s mum’s old lackeys, Horace and Jasper, and a few other kids their age. Near the front is Freya, Judge Claude’s girl. There aren’t many people who can make Harry’s blood run cold just by looking at him, but she’s one of them. And right at the back are the men themselves.

Still playing at having someone announce them, as if they meant something in the world. Bloody pathetic.

‘Good afternoon,’ Mr Smee calls up to Uma. ‘We were hoping you’d be about.’

‘And where did you think we’d be?’ Harry cuts in, because there’s no way he’s leaving his captain to speak directly to his father’s _side-kick_. He shouldn’t even have let her come to the rail when they called.

‘Heaven knows,’ Hook says. Harry should have known that the old man wouldn’t be able to resist the sound of his own voice for long. He shuffles his crowd of hangers-on to the side and moves to the edge of the dock. Gaston sticks close beside him. ‘You seem to go wherever the wind takes you these days, my boy, and to have all sorts of important assignations.’

‘Why are you here?’ Mal snaps.

‘A wise father might wait for his son to visit him,’ Hook says, ‘but a loving father simply wants to see his son.’ The dark eyes find Harry. ‘I know I spoiled you.’

There are so many things wrong with that that they all stick in Harry’s throat and he ends up saying none of them. The black moustache twitches.

 _Think you’ve thrown me, do you?_ Harry thinks. _Just give me a moment to sort your rubbish into some kind of order and you’ll hear what I’ve got to say_ …

‘Too much education,’ Gaston says. ‘Latin, harpsichords? I kept my boys well away from it.’

‘You raised Gil one way, you raised Harry another, and guess what?’ Uma says. ‘I’ve got both of them.’

‘Yes, you did,’ Hook says, ‘and a fine situation it is for them, if I may say so.’

‘You may,’ Uma says, ‘but I’ll wonder what you mean.’

‘I mean that who else, out of all the villains on this Isle of ours, could have given my Harry the opportunity to mix with the kind of personage you’re currently hosting?’

‘You’d be referring to the king,’ Uma says.

‘Quite so,’ Hook says. ‘When King Adam _locked_ us on this island and _threw_ away the key, I don’t think any of us dreamed of the day when we would have a royal visitation.’

‘Yeah, you know she _kidnapped_ him, right?’ Jay says. Hook, Gaston and their entourage just laugh at that, as though it’s some shared villainous exploit that they’re all bragging about down at the chip shop.

‘But from what I’ve heard he’s not minding so much,’ Freya says. ‘Letters flying back and forth to Auradon; it’s practically an open border these days.’

‘Didn’t think you’d get to keep that all to yourself, did you, Uma?’ one of Gil’s brothers shouts.

‘What way is that to talk to a lady?’ Gaston snaps, cuffing him hard.

‘You’ll get yours, don’t you worry,’ Uma says. ‘Barrier’s coming down.’

‘What stupendous news!’ Hook exclaims. ‘When?’

There’s silence. Harry grinds his teeth until his jaw aches.

‘When pigs fly, haha!’ Lefou blurts into the silence.

‘When we work out the details,’ Evie says.

‘I have to say.’ Gaston swaggers forwards. ‘When we heard you’d taken the king, we thought, well.’ He snaps his fingers. ‘She’ll be off. Your kind always did know how to strike a bargain. But now here you are, negotiating for the whole Isle. It’s…quite sweet of you.’

‘Practically heroic!’ Lefou sniggers.

‘Watch your mouth,’ Bonny warns.

‘Please don’t take offense, my dear young lady,’ Hook says. ‘I’m sure that Mr Lefou was referring to the bearing of your guest, and not to your captain’s actions.’

His eyes dance with malice. He’s looking over Bonny’s shoulder. Harry whips round, and there’s Ben, standing plain as day on the deck with Gil beside him.

The mob on the docks gives a hungry mutter that makes Harry’s hair stand on end. In his head he’s saying every foul curse he can think of. What is Ben thinking, showing himself on deck? Does he think there’ll be some kind of confusion that he can escape in? Is he just trying to stir up trouble? He looks pretty wary now that he’s face to face with his father’s would-be-killer, that’s for sure. Well, good. Harry hopes they _lynch_ him.

‘Your majesty,’ Hook says, and bows. It looks ridiculous; tattered coat and ragged hat; and yet at the same time Harry can see a shadow of the way Ben moves in his father’s gesture. He recalls that somewhere way back, when he was a gentleman, Hook must have been presented to some other king.

‘Have you come here to fight with Uma?’ Ben asks, that diffident voice of his barely carrying across the water.

‘We simply sought an audience, your majesty,’ Hook says. ‘You’ve been closeted here with your favourites ever since you arrived on our poor Island, but we are your people too, after all.’

‘That’s true,’ Ben agrees cautiously.

‘Step up to the rail and let us take a look at you, then,’ Gaston calls. Harry watches hopefully for Ben to look properly frightened. He doesn’t. He looks like he’s considering complying.

‘Ben, don’t go any closer,’ Evie says urgently. She puts a hand on his chest. Harry scans the group on the docks, looking to see if anybody’s got a knife they might throw.

‘You take after your mother,’ Gaston says.

‘Thank you,’ Ben replies, like he hears nothing but goodwill in the comment.

‘He doesn’t mean it in a good way,’ Gil warns quietly.

‘I thought you were going to wait below,’ Uma says to Gil. Gil gestures hopelessly at Ben.

‘He asked to come up,’ he says, as if that explains anything. ‘Hi, Papa.’

‘Hello, Goldilocks,’ Gaston says dismissively. Gil flinches and Harrys’ blood boils. Gaston turns back to Ben. ‘So, you refused to let the siren and her serving wench pack you off below deck, did you? You decided to come take a look at us real villains?’

‘Still a fine specimen isn’t he – for pushing fifty!’ Lefou giggles. Gaston rounds on him with fist raised. Lefou ducks. Horace and Jasper snigger. It’s all unbelievably tedious. Harry glances at Uma, whose face has gone mask-like in that way it does when she’s crunching the numbers of life and death. If she orders Ben below, the villains on the docks will know that she wasn’t happy with him coming on deck – that he’s getting feisty enough to ignore her instructions. Harry considers bundling him away from the rail without being told, passing it off as his usual craziness so that Uma can save face, but he doesn’t know what Jay and Mal will do if he puts hands on Ben. And while he and Uma are thinking, Ben just keeps talking.

‘I wanted to speak to you face to face,’ he’s saying. ‘I don’t know why.’ Still that quiet tone, and Harry can’t decide what he’s playing at at all.

‘The original Beast never was one for face to face, talking or fighting,’ Gaston says. ‘Perhaps you’re made of sterner stuff.’ He makes an expansive gesture, beckoning with his whole arm. ‘Come down.’

Ben glances at Uma. Harry shifts his fingers on the grip of his hook.

‘Oh, I forgot; you’re the witch’s prisoner!’ Gaston laughs. ‘Like father, like son. Well, these roughs may have laid hands on you first, but they don’t own the whole Isle, you know. Come on down; we’ll protect you.’

‘I’m happy to be here,’ Ben says. Courteous, neutral. Nothing in his face suggests that it’s not the gospel truth.

‘Your majesty, forgive me if I’m forward,’ Hook says, ‘but you are a _young_ king, so perhaps it’s not out of turn for me to advise you. A king should take his council from…many quarters. You’re free to speak to anybody on this Isle, y’know, and moreover you _should_.’

‘Uma is negotiating with me on everybody’s behalf, not just her own,’ Ben begins.

‘Sorry, Ben, I’m going to interrupt you there,’ Carlos says. He leans over the side. ‘Ben promised to help kids, but he never promised to help any of you! You know what you did to end up here! And don’t think we don’t know what you’re going to do to him if he does go down to you, either!’

‘And what is it that I’ve done?’ Hook demands. ‘Yes, I feuded with Pan; I harmed him and he harmed me, but what’s that to your royal father that he should punish me and all my children, King Benjamin? Yes, I sent the girl Wendy off the plank, but I gave her the chance to join my crew first. Isn’t that as good a chance as the chance you gave those four? And what about these two?’ He gestures to Horace and Jasper. ‘Poor men, simply trying to earn a living in the pay of a rich lady. Or Captain Uma’s mother, who entered into a contract, as any mer person may freely do?’

‘My mother cheated on her contract, Hook,’ Uma says. ‘She deserved what she got.’

‘I can’t answer for every single one of your cases right here and now,’ Ben says.

‘Why not? Aren’t we answering for them every moment of our lives?’ Hook replies.

Harry grinds his teeth. Uma’s words have somehow found their way into his da’s mouth. And they’re making Ben’s neutral face slip. He’s starting to look every bit as sad as he does when Uma says them.

‘Ah, don’t let these scoundrels guilt-trip you, your majesty,’ he finds himself saying. ‘They let your old man outsmart them, and serves them right.’

‘Does the Beast like to say he outsmarted me now?’ Gaston demands. ‘I hunted him down and put a knife in him, and if it hadn’t been for his girl and some witchcraft he’d be dead. Who’s going to kiss you better after I gut you, boy?’

'Who's going to put _you_ back together after I take you apart?’ Jay retaliates, swinging as far out over the side of the ship as his grip on the rigging will allow. As the mob below answer him with taunts and threats, Harry quickly takes stock of Ben’s reaction. He _still_ looks more sad than frightened. Harry had hoped a dose of Gaston would be enough to snap him out of his _pitying-the-Isle_ shtick, but apparently not.

‘Keep your temper!’ Hook tells Gaston. He waves an arm to quiet the others. ‘We aren’t offering him any kind of violence – ’

‘ _Aww_ , you can’t even agree on what you’re going to do with him,’ Uma taunts. ‘That’s cute.’ Something shifts. One moment she’s dangling almost idly from the rigging; the next she’s got her feet planted like storms couldn’t move her. ‘Is this really who you want to be following, huh?’ she demands. She talks right past Hook and Gaston to the motley gang they’ve got gathered around them.

‘Enough of this,’ Hook says. ‘M’dear, let us make ourselves perfectly clear. Send your guest down to us, and my son as well, or we will come and fetch them down, and give you a little something for your trouble as well.’

‘You want to come on board?’ Uma cocks a smile. ‘Then come on board.’

People like to make fun of Uma for the whole pirate shtick. Being a thief doesn’t set you apart on an island of thieves, and what’s the point of a ship that can never set sail?

The point is that, the moment she got Ben on board, Uma put off as far from the docks as the barrier will allow, and now they’ve got twenty feet of water between themselves and their enemies. Killer sharks will be the least of Gaston and Hook’s worries; let them try floundering through the breakers while the crew rain down fire on their heads.

‘We _will_ board you!’ Gaston shouts. He looks like he’s just run the same calculation as Harry. His voice lacks conviction.

‘I’m quaking in my boots,’ Uma says. ‘Hey, you lot, did they tell you this was the plan?’ She addresses Hook’s followers again. ‘Did they invite you to come and swim for my ship while I spear you in the water one by one?’

There’s shuffling and doubtful glances in the group below. Uma’s voice suddenly rings out louder.

‘Who captured the king?’ she shouts. ‘I did! Who forced Maleficent’s daughter to ask for terms? I did! Who got all of Auradon asking what it’ll take to get their precious king back? _I did!_ And you want me to hand him over to the _real_ captain?’ She laughs, that glorious laugh that cuts the object of her scorn down to less than nothing. ‘Is this a joke?’

‘Let’s go,’ somebody mutters. People start to sidle away. Gaston looks like he wants to shout them into line, but most of Uma’s crew have knives in their hands by now, and he seems afraid that if he turns around he’ll catch one in the back. But Hook is staring at Harry. Harry’s hands shake, with rage that his father still thinks he can be persuaded. Nothing else.

‘When you leave off this nonsense, son,’ he says, ‘my door will be open.’

‘I’ll kill him before I hand him over, Hook, so don’t even try,’ Uma calls, and Harry knows she’s talking about Ben, telling Hook it’s pointless to get him to leave, but he lets himself imagine for a moment that she means him. The words wrap around him like steel armour. He’s _hers_ , and she won’t let anyone take him. Even if his brain flips over, like he can feel it trying to do, and sends him scurrying back home one day, she’ll protect him from that, too. He’s safe. He’s safe.

Uma jumps down from the rigging and moves towards Ben. He may have got used to Harry’s hook, but whatever’s in her eyes has him stiffening and backing away a step. That brings him straight up against Gil, and he jumps.

Mal’s looking on, all antsy like she wants to leap to Ben’s defence. Harry takes a casual half-step and puts himself between her and Uma. Jay glares at him, and Harry smirks back. What he wouldn’t give to throw down with Jay right now.

‘I promised not to lock you up like a prisoner,’ Uma tells Ben. ‘I promised you free rein around this ship. And you promised me that you’d obey all my reasonable instructions. I think _keep out of sight of villains_ counts as a reasonable instruction. Ignore me again and I’ll chain you up.’

‘You’ll do no such thing!’ Mal says hotly. ‘Harry, let me by!’

‘Oh, so you were thrilled to bits to see him parlaying with those two, were you?’ Uma asks. Mal deflates a little.

‘Ben, you should have stayed out of sight,’ she says.

‘I disagree,’ Ben says. Still that diffident voice, but there’s a firm set to his jaw as well. ‘They already knew I was here, so what’s the harm?’

‘Sometimes you don’t know how much you want to _smack_ someone until you actually see them,’ Uma mutters.

‘They’re my people too,’ Ben insists. ‘All the people out there, even the ones who’ve been here longest.’

‘They’re villains, Ben,’ Mal says. She sounds tired.

‘That’s what some people tried to tell me about you,’ Ben says.

‘It’s different. You could’ve got hurt.’

‘Bit overprotective, aren’t you, pixie?’ Harry says. ‘I think our little king was brave.’

He flashes Ben a smile. Mal opens her mouth to retort, but Uma gets in first.

‘No you don’t,’ she snaps. ‘He was reckless.’ Harry’s so stung at being smacked down in front of Mal that he almost argues back, but Uma stares him down and he manages to keep his mouth shut. She turns back to Ben. ‘You claim compassion for everyone and don’t help anyone,’ she says. ‘I’m tired of you today. Gil, take him below.’

‘C’mon,’ Gil says. He wraps his arm around Ben’s shoulders. He’s strong enough to physically move him without needing to manhandle, and besides, all the fight seems to have gone out of Ben with Uma’s last comment. He looks like he really might be about to cry.

‘Bye, Mal,’ he says in a very small voice as Gil pulls him away.

‘Bye, Ben,’ she replies.

Evie moves to Mal’s side. She waits until Ben and Gil disappear though the hatch, and then whispers,

‘You didn’t need to be so hard on him. He’s trying his best.’

‘He doesn’t understand the Isle,’ Mal sighs.

‘Is that why you broke up with him?’ Uma asks. ‘Naiveté wearing on your nerves?’

‘I wasn’t good for him.’

‘Self-flagellation, Mal? Of all the heroic traits you could have picked up, you had to go with the most boring. Well, you’ve trespassed on my hospitality long enough. Go tell the council that I’ve spared King Benjamin’s life because I know he’s not responsible for the idiocy of his ministers, and reiterate my first demand. Barrier down. That’s all.’

Mal stares. ‘Uma, are you mad? You have to come to Auradon.’

‘Oh? And why’s that?’

‘Because!’ Mal points towards shore, to where Hook and Gaston’s gang were standing. ‘Because we both know that was a declaration of war! Ben’s not safe here.’

‘He’s safe aboard this ship.’

‘They’ll come back with enough angry people to storm the ship. It’s only a matter of time. Damn it, if you don’t care about Ben, at least do it for yourself.’

‘So you’d have me abandon my crew?’ Uma sneers. ‘Like you did?’

‘She’d never!’ Desiree yells.

‘Fuck off, Mal!’ Gonzo adds. There’s a round of angry cheers from the listening crew.

‘Mal, you can’t expect her to go without them,’ Carlos says quietly. Harry freezes. Everyone always gets jittery whenever parents show up. If Carlos or Mal suggests the possibility of the whole crew leaving now, and Uma has to reject it in front of everyone, they’re going to have a mutiny on their hands.

And would she really reject it? After this? Harry knows he’s still missing something, some deeper reason why she won’t settle for anything less than the opening of the barrier. He’s still lagging behind.

‘Once Ben’s back in Auradon and can give direct orders he’ll be able to bring the rest of your crew over,’ Evie is arguing. ‘Uma, please.’

‘Remind me what happened that time you stole his boat?’ Uma says. ‘One wrong move and Fairy Godmother was threatening to send you back here. Are you enjoying that life, huh? Always looking over your shoulder, beholden to the king? Believe it or not, I actually have thought this through.’

‘Look, you’re right,’ Jay said. ‘That sucked, and the whole situation isn’t great, but…better something than nothing, right?’

Uma doesn’t say anything. She just stands still as a rock and stares Mal down. Harry remembers those heady few hours after he’d brought her the king, a better gift than he’d ever hoped to give her; when it seemed the two of them were going to ride to victory together. Now it seems they’re getting sucked towards defeat, the way he should have known they would, Isle-born as they are. But he’d rather cling to Uma until the waves batter them both to pieces than watch her surrender.

‘You’re serious,’ Mal says. She turns away from Uma, attempt at persuasion over. ‘Right, new plan. I’m going to see Dad.’

‘Wait, _what_?’ Carlos exclaims.

‘Hades?’ Evie hisses.

‘I’m keeping Ben alive because I’ve still got a chance of using him,’ Uma says, ‘but if you’re thinking of mounting some kind of rescue mission – ’

‘I’m thinking of _helping you_ ,’ Mal says. ‘If you really insist on staying here, you need allies to help you defend this ship.’ She pouts in frustration. ‘Time was I could’ve doubled your numbers, but – ’

‘But you lost your old allies when you swanned off to Auradon,’ Uma says. ‘Funny how that works. Now, remind me again why I should trust your father any more than I trust you, princess?’

‘I’m not giving you a choice,’ Mal says.

‘You keep saying you intend to have Ben take the barrier down,’ Evie says. ‘Hades will support that. Everybody will! And most people will see that you’re a better leader than Hook or Gaston as well. You just have to get to them first.’

‘You fancy yourself Queen of the Isle,’ Mal says, ‘so start acting like it.’

‘Maybe it’s not such a bad idea to call in a few favours, Captain,’ Bonny speaks up. ‘My father’s got plenty of fighters. Let me ask him for help.’

‘Believe it or not, I actually want more kids freed,’ Mal says. ‘Even you, Uma. I just don’t like your crazy idea of setting all our parents loose. Or the fact that you’ve imprisoned my – ’ She cuts herself off. ‘Ben.’

‘Excuse you?’ Uma says. ‘You were the first to set parents loose. But you make a certain kind of sense. Alright. You can go fetch the god of death – ’

‘You can’t stop me.’

‘You can fetch him,’ Uma continues coolly. ‘He can’t come aboard, but if he wants to set up on the docks and put himself between me and my enemies, I certainly won’t object. Bonny, take Desiree for a partner and go ashore. Keep out of trouble with anybody who’s friendly with Hook and Gaston, and try anybody who’s friendly to us. Shan Yu, Facilier…’

‘I think the Tremaines are still in the wind,’ Mathilde suggests.

‘Dizzy’s been asking after you, you know, Harry,’ Evie says.

‘Has she, now?’ Harry asks. He aches to get below deck and talk to Uma, find out what she _wants_ and what she needs him to do. The last thing he wants to do is trade barbs with Evie. But he makes himself choke out a rote response anyway. ‘Tell the little squirt I’ve got bigger fish to fry.’

‘Can you believe she’s almost _missing_ him?’ Jay says. ‘Just goes to show you can get away with murder just as long as you appeal to a twelve-year-old’s sense of style.’

‘Uma’s protection’s legit,’ Harry says. ‘I got bruises kicking gangsters out of that shop for her. _Bruises_.’

‘Yes, you’re a real hero,’ Evie says snippily.

‘Lord, I hope not.’

‘Do you think you could be a little nicer to her when you come by? Her granny doesn’t let her out much.’

‘Of course. I’ll put it on my to-do list, right under _protecting the king from villains_.’

‘Alright,’ Uma says. ‘Crew, gather. Harry, see our guests off the ship, and then join us.’

‘Aye, Captain,’ Harry says at once. _Finally_. ‘If you’ll just step this way.’

‘Reckon I can find the gangplank myself, thanks,’ Carlos says, brushing past Harry. Harry growls and has the satisfaction of seeing Carlos swerve to give him a wider berth. The others follow him. Harry drifts after them anyway, just to make sure that they don’t try any funny business on their way off the ship.

Carlos heads down the gangplank. Harry breathes easier. Jay and Evie follow. Better and better. But at the last moment, Mal turns back.

‘Wait one moment,’ she says to the others. Her eyes lock onto Harry. He slumps against the rail and makes an exasperated gesture with both hands.

 _‘What_?’

‘Uma listens to you,’ Mal says. She glances around to see if any of the crew are listening. They’re not, but that’s no matter; Harry will be reporting everything she says straight to Uma. ‘God knows why, but she listens to you. Get her to see sense. If she gets Shan Yu and Facilier and whoever else involved, they’re all going to want something in return.’

‘And they’ll all _get_ something when the barrier comes down,’ Harry replies. ‘Besides, I thought asking for allies was your idea.’

‘Get her to come to Auradon,’ Mal says, ignoring him. ‘Don’t you want that for her?’

‘Oh, little Mal,’ Harry sighs, ‘I want what she wants. It really is that simple.’

‘Do you _want_ to be caught in the biggest turf war the Isle’s ever seen?’ Mal asks. ‘Because that’s what this could all turn into.’

‘Sounds like an historic moment.’ Harry makes a little arabesque with his hook.

‘God, you’re crazy.’ Mal grimaces. ‘I don’t want Ben in the middle of this.’

‘His majesty will be quite safe in my tender care, I promise you.’

‘And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, either,’ Mal snaps.

‘How’s that?’ Harry asks.

‘Draping yourself all over him, trying to flirt him into doing what Uma wants. You know, it’s rather sad really. He’s going to help you because he’s _good_ , but I don’t expect you to understand that.’

‘Somehow, I don’t find myself putting a lot of faith in _good_ ,’ Harry says. ‘Besides, what’s the harm in helping him along a little?’

‘That’s not how he works, Harry,’ Mal says.

‘Funny, because it seems to me that that’s _exactly_ how he works,’ Harry says. He lets his voice come out in a slick, satisfied purr. Needling Mal when she’s _asking_ to be needled? Fantastic. ‘That Audrey was getting exactly what she wanted from him until you, uhhh…came along and got it the exact same way.’

‘Ben and I were in _love_ ,’ Mal says.

‘Mmm, you sure loved the dresses and the _dining with Aladdin and Jasmine_ ,’ Harry sing-songs. ‘Shame you forgot to take anyone else along with you.’

‘You think I wanted to be his girlfriend because I wanted – oh, you have it so _backwards_ ,’ Mal groans.

‘Going to tell me you didn’t want the fame?’ Harry taunts. ‘Going to tell me about how hard it is being a princess?’

‘I left him,’ Mal says. ‘That should tell you how hard it is. And if it doesn’t, what Uma’s trying to do right now should. It’s no picnic, is it, dealing with the court?’

‘It’s not,’ Harry smiles. He leans close, close enough that she leans away, and breathes, ‘good thing we have you to do it for us.’

Mal scoffs and flounces away down the gangplank. Harry waves her off with his hook hand. If she hated being a lady of the court when all that meant was twinkling around on Ben’s arm, he hopes she’s hating it even more with real stakes and no Ben. He watches until they’re out of sight on the docks, then heads back to where Uma’s gathered the crew.

Almost back to normal. Just one uninvited guest left somewhere under his feet…

Belatedly, Harry remembers that he was the one who invited Ben on board. It’s a struggle to remember why he thought that was a good idea.

‘Took you long enough,’ Uma says as he rejoins the rest of the crew.

‘Mal had a few parting shots.’

‘Anything of interest?’

‘Didn’t like how friendly we’re all getting with the king,’ Harry says. The crew laugh at that, and a couple of them reach out to pat him on the back as he steps into the circle. So apparently while he thought he was frightening the king with just a touch of charm on top, everybody else has decided the charm is the main event. Does anybody on this ship find him scary at all? This day just keeps getting better and better.

Uma would have told him if he was doing it wrong. He fixes his gaze on her.

‘So, to make sure that we’re all on the same page,’ Uma says, ‘today the king’s council sent me a letter inviting me to come to Auradon, with the promise of safe conduct.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘And Mal and her gang want me to believe that I’ll get the chance to bring you all after me once I’ve got there.’

The crew all boo. Uma lets them react for a moment and then waves for silence.

‘They think they can break us apart by offering one or two of us a place in the sun. They’ll soon learn that there’s only one way they’re getting their precious king back. And when we finally do get free, we’ll have the whole Isle behind us. We won’t have to bow and scrape like Mal’s gang did when they landed.’

‘You reckon even Hook and Gaston’ll come around if we can get the barrier down for them, Captain?’ Gonzo asks doubtfully.

Uma tosses her braids. ‘I reckon their flunkies will,’ she says, ‘which comes to the same thing.’

‘It is a worry though,’ Desiree says. ‘If we set the whole Isle free, how are we going to make sure the really terrible parents don’t mess with us once we’re over in Auradon?’

‘Alright, I’ve got nine tenths of this plan worked out,’ Uma says easily. ‘Give me a hot minute to work on the other tenth.’

That gets laughter – from most of the crew. Harry sees Jonas and Bonny exchanging a glance.

‘Doubt they’ll mess with us any worse in Auradon than they do here,’ he says loudly. ‘Hell, maybe they’ll go bother the king and leave us alone.’

More laughter. Things feel almost as they should – but not quite. Uma looks at Harry, and he lets his eyes fall briefly on Jonas before looking back at her. Uma blinks once, and Harry knows she’s seen the warning.

‘First mate, with me,’ she says. ‘Bonny, Desiree, you know your orders. Find our allies, tell them we need eyes out; tell them what they stand to gain; don’t invite them on board.’

She heads for the trapdoor that leads below, and Harry follows her. He’s loathe to leave the rest of the crew unsupervised when the mood’s like this, but they need to talk one on one. Once they’re alone, she’ll tell him what she wants him to do.

Gil is standing outside the door of the first cabin.

‘All quiet?’ Uma asks him.

‘He wanted to be alone,’ Gil says. ‘He’s really sad.’

No surprises there. It had been pretty depressing to learn that the king himself is _sad_ so much of the time. Does anybody really get to live happily ever after, Harry wonders, or is it really sadness all the way up?

Uma stands on tip-toe and quietly slides back the little window in the top of the door. Harry peers in beside her. Ben is pacing round inside the cabin. Harry can practically _hear_ him thinking. He doesn’t notice that he’s being watched.

‘If I were the hostage I’d take a fucking break from thinking so hard,’ Harry whispers.

‘Maybe he’ll actually think up something useful,’ Uma replies. ‘Let’s hope it’s not an escape attempt. Look alive, Gilly. I’ll come see you soon, alright?’

‘Yes, Uma,’ Gil replies, sanguine as ever. Uma beckons Harry on with a jerk of her head and shuts them both into her cabin.

‘Uma,’ he says, the moment they’re inside. He moves towards her, but she turns and brings him up short with a look. He’s got sloppy; he never touches her without an invitation; that’s how it’s always been. But he was so sure she was about to invite him. It’s what she always does at the end of a hard day’s work.

But then, who’s to say this is the end? This is the negotiation that apparently never fucking ends.

‘Look alive, Harry,’ Uma says quietly.

‘Feels like I’ve spent more time with his majesty than with you lately.’ He tries for levity and fails miserably.

‘You’ve been right where I need you,’ she says.

‘He bores me,’ Harry says. ‘I’d much rather – ’

‘If you’re going to complain,’ Uma snaps, ‘say it to me straight.’

Worse than sloppy. He and Uma don’t waste each other’s time. Harry straightens his shoulders. ‘I’m tired of playing nursemaid to the king and never seeing you,’ he says.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Uma says. ‘Did you think this was going to be some kind of game? Of course it isn’t easy.’

Harry’s voice dies in his throat. He’s angry with himself for complaining about something so stupid, when of course this is hard, and of course she’s working twice as hard as he is. But still, he’s angry with her too, and that’s all wrong. He’s never angry with her.

Uma’s face softens.

‘Come here, Harry,’ she says, and flops down on the rickety bed.

Maybe she meant for him to sit beside her, but what the hell. Harry drops to his knees and presses his face into her, awkwardly, just below her ribcage. He keeps his hands crossed behind his back, because he knows how to behave, _damn it_ , he does; he knows what they are. Uma makes a sound, half-sigh, half-laugh, and puts her hand into his hair. It used to be he was this good at pleasing her all the time.

‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbles into her belly, ‘that I didn’t think things through before I nicked the king – ’

‘Hush,’ Uma says. ‘You brought us an opportunity. Opportunity ain’t always fun.’

Harry lets himself melt further into her lap.

‘You want to apologise for something,’ Uma continues, ‘apologise for coming on deck.’

‘Captain?’ Harry looks up, confused.

‘When Hook and Gaston showed up, I told you and Gil to stay below with the king. You came on deck.’

‘Oh.’ With everything that had happened, he’d clean forgotten. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Gil let his majesty come up and speak to them. I didn’t want that to happen.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Harry repeats. She’s very calm, still stroking his hair, and it’s making him nervous. What he deserves is a damned good flogging for ignoring a direct order.

‘Why did you come on deck?’ she asks gently.

‘Why did you order me to stay below?’ He _definitely_ deserves a flogging.

‘Your father’s discourteous to you sometimes,’ Uma says. ‘I don’t see why I should have to watch that.’

‘Ah, Captain.’ Harry looks recklessly into her eyes. ‘He can’t touch me. Not when I ride with you.’

Uma frowns, a little thoughtful, almost a little sad, but she keeps scratching at Harry’s scalp, so he decides to be content. Then she says,

‘My mother swam by last night, you know.’

Harry’s blood runs cold. ‘Ursula?’

‘The very same.’

‘She talk to you?’

‘Aye. So a fine hypocrite I’d be if I took you to task for talking to your father.’

Harry swallows. ‘What did she say?’

‘You really want to know?’ Uma asks dryly.

‘First mate should know,’ Harry whispers.

‘Alright. She said we should look to the king’s own power. That that’s what’ll get us off the Isle.’

‘What did she mean by that?’ Harry asks.

‘That’s what I asked her. She laughed at me and swam away.’

‘We could press him to order his council to take the barrier down,’ Harry says. ‘They’ve only had that order from us, not from him directly. Is that what she meant? We could threaten him into giving the order. But they’d know he didn’t mean it, so I don’t see how that helps – ’

‘Harry.’ Uma cuts him off. ‘Are you seriously speculating about something my _mother_ said?’

‘Damn it. Sorry. Permission to sit up?’

‘You’re the one who knelt down in the first place, Harry.’ Uma raises one eyebrow. Harry scrambles up off the floor and sits beside her on the bed. He can think better from here. And apparently he’s got to keep thinking.

‘If she wanted to help she’d have said what she meant,’ Uma says. ‘Don’t think on what she said. She’s useless. The point is we’ve got too many visitors for my liking.’

‘Sharks are circling,’ Harry agrees. ‘Are you really going to let Mal bring _Hades_ in?’

‘Can I stop her?’ Uma replies. Harry grimaces. He hates to admit it, but they can’t.

‘Mal’s right about one thing,’ Uma says. ‘I should have started scouting for support sooner. I wanted to trade the king quick and clean, keep it in the crew, but it’s gone on too long for that. People have got wind of what’s happening. They want a hand in it. Reckon they’ll see I’m the best person to lead them, provided I invite them, but if I don’t then they’ll go to whoever’s claiming to offer them a stake. That’s where Hook and Gaston got their mob from. Stupid to leave people in the wind for them to mop up. I’ve got some ground to make up.’

‘You can give people a good incentive to support us, at least. Is that why you’re so insistent on the barrier coming down? To get people on our side?’

‘There’s plenty of reasons,’ Uma says cryptically. ‘Pick that one if you like the look of it. It’s going to take a lot of incentive to pull people away from Hook and Gaston, though. Once people have picked a side they tend to stick to it even if it’s dumb. We’ll have to move fast to make up our numbers. Shan Yu, Facilier…Hell, why not Hades? Mal was always her mother’s daughter; reckon Hades would just as soon back me as her.’

‘You reckon we can trust any of them?’ Harry asks.

Uma laughs. ‘Hell no. Do _you_ think your dad and Gil’s can really threaten us?’

‘Maybe,’ Harry says. ‘It’s stupid to follow them, but people _are_ stupid. Whipping up mobs was Gaston’s speciality back in the day.’ There’s a pause. ‘Are we really killing the king if they get too close?’

‘Damnation, it’d be like killing a _puppy_ , wouldn’t it?’ Uma mutters.

‘We’re supposed to like killing puppies,’ Harry says.

‘Oh, to Hell with that!’ Uma exclaims. ‘Our parents liked killing puppies, and look where that landed them! I’m not throwing away the best bit of leverage we’ll ever have just because it’s what a crowd of washed-up prisoners would do.’

‘All the same…’ Harry chooses his words very carefully. ‘Can’t let them think we’re afraid to do it.’

‘Who’s saying I’m afraid to do it?’ Uma switches out his _we_ for _I_.

‘They were saying you weren’t a villain,’ Harry says.

‘If being a villain means cutting off your nose to spite your face, then I’m not. Doesn’t make me a hero either. Tell me this, Harry. Say your father and my mother and Gaston and their mob were actually storming the ship, and there was no way we could fight them off, so I cut the King’s throat and stopped them from taking him…how would that help us?’

‘It’d keep them from winning,’ Harry says at once. ‘I won’t see you lose.’

Uma leans forward suddenly and kisses him on the mouth. It’s a hard kiss. Her lips squash and mould themselves against his. Harry gives a little gasp. He parts his lips, opening for her in case she wants in. Uma gives the barest of growls. She takes him hard by the chin and pushes his face away.

‘You _distract_ me,’ she says quietly.

‘Sorry, Captain,’ Harry says. She thumbs over his lower lip, eyes dropping speculatively to his mouth for a moment, then reluctantly takes her hand away.

‘I need you to do something for me,’ she says. ‘You’re probably not going to like it.’

‘I’m all ears, Captain.’

‘In the small hours of the morning,’ Uma says, ‘you’re going to take the king, and you and he are going to go on shore for a while.’

‘On shore?’ Harry echoes.

‘And no-one’s going to know but you and me,’ Uma continues. ‘Ship’s a little hot right now. You take him away, quietly, until we know whether Hook and Gaston were just passing the time or if they’re going to kick up serious trouble. And until we know how Hades and Shan Yu and whoever else Bonny scares up are going to play it.’

‘And until Jonas settles down?’ Harry suggests.

‘Ugh, don’t remind me. So, what do you think?’

‘It’s risky. If we got caught we’d have a worse chance of defending him than we do on board ship. We’d have to find a really good hiding spot…’

‘I’m hoping nobody even realises he’s gone, at least for a while,’ Uma says, ‘but a good hiding spot, for sure. Where? Not the chip shop. Or anywhere I share with my mother…’

‘The old lodge?’ Harry suggests.

‘Gaston’s place?’

‘He never uses it. Place is full of damp and rats. But nobody else is going to dare come sniffing on Gaston’s territory. Besides, it’s the last thing he’d expect.’

‘Audacious. I like it.’ Uma smirks, and puts her fingers roughly through Harry’s hair by way of reward. Harry lets his head fall back with the pressure of her hand. ‘It’s settled then. Go about your day like normal, get some sleep come evening. Before dawn, slip off the boat with his majesty and take him to the lodge. Lay low until I get things ship-shape here. I’ll send for you within a day. Longer than that, you check back.’ She pauses. ‘You know, I thought you were going to make a fuss about this.’

‘It’s a good plan,’ Harry says, ‘but how about sending Gil?’

‘There it is. Why should I send Gil?’

‘Because his majesty annoys me,’ Harry says. Uma gives him a look, and shifts her boot to press down on his toe until he pulls away with a wince. ‘Alright. Because there’s negotiations coming up. Dangerous times as well. You ought to have your first mate beside you.’

‘You’re the only one I trust for this, Harry,’ Uma says. ‘Gil’s good at friendly, but he’s a sight too friendly with the king. And as for the others…’ Uma shakes her head. ‘Say the plan back to me.’

‘I wait till the wee small hours. I take his majesty off the ship in secret and hole up with him at the old lodge. I wait a day for you to send word. I tell no-one.’

‘You tell _no-one_ ,’ Uma repeats. ‘Clever boy. Now tell me what you think of the plan. Is there anything I’ve missed?’

‘Hmm.’ Harry sucks his teeth. ‘What will the crew do when they find out the king is missing?’

‘ _If_ they find out the king is missing,’ Uma says, ‘and not lurking in his cabin, then I’ll tell them the truth. Say you’ve got him under guard somewhere your daddy won’t find him.’

‘They might not like not having the bird in their hands.’

‘Damn, this afternoon really spooked you, didn’t it!’ Uma laughs. ‘Poor Harry. Don’t worry; that _is_ something I trust Gil for. Anything else?’

Harry swallows.

‘Spit it out, Harry.’

‘That offer of Mal’s,’ Harry says. Uma sighs heavily.

‘So you think I should take it too.’

‘No, it was an obvious trap! I just…Jonas’ idea wasn’t half-bad, maybe.’

‘You want to ask the Beast for a tall ship and see this place shrinking astern?’ Uma asks. Harry stays quiet. It’s obvious she wants him to answer _no_ , but the answer in his head is _yes. Of course_.

‘Because I want to _burn it to the fucking ground_ ,’ Uma says.

‘You want to set our parents loose on Auradon?’ Harry guesses. Uma laughs.

‘No. I want Auradon to do as I asked. Barrier. Down. You said you wouldn’t see me lose.’

‘I won’t,’ Harry says softly.

‘Ask them for one little ship from their fleet, set sail in it and they’d probably pat themselves on the back and say good riddance. That good enough for you?’

‘No, Captain,’ he agrees.

Uma frowns. She’s thinking of something, and wondering whether to say it. It’s not often she lets herself show a tell as clearly as that. Harry makes himself very still and waits.

‘Mal and I’ve been enemies a long time,’ she says. ‘Can’t fault her for getting ahead if she could; I’d’ve done the same. But when you saw her up on that TV screen, at the coronation, saying _I choose good_ , didn’t that go further than getting ahead; than taking the win? Didn’t it make you feel a little sick?’

‘Of course,’ Harry says, though he’d spent more time laughing at her pink dresses and cornering her abandoned territory than feeling sick.

‘You can put a tiara on a villain, but you’re still a villain. There’s lying, and then there’s whatever she’s trying to do, saying she’s not.’

‘I think she knows that,’ Harry says, ‘or why would she have ended up back here?’

‘That’s what I mean. And it doesn’t sit right with me. Sailing away like heroes into a hero’s land while there’s still villains here…it doesn’t sit right with me.’ She stares through the cabin wall like she’s seeing something else. Harry thinks he can imagine it: skimming across the open sea, but the Isle always behind them, itching, tugging, pulling them back.

Then he thinks of other things. Uma sending him out to tangle with Dizzy Tremaine’s enemies because Dizzy’d paid her dues. Uma asking after Smee’s twin lads, always wondering aloud if they’d be big enough for the crew. Uma always telling the crew to let Gil alone, having them cover for him wherever he wasn’t quick or mean enough to cover for himself, until covering for him became second nature, just like letting him cover for them when what was needed was strength…

There’s a suspicion building up in his mind, but it’s far too large and frightening to grapple with now, so he just says,

‘We’re not free while there’s a prison, you reckon.’

‘Or prisoners,’ Uma mutters. Then, so quickly Harry barely has time to register that, she says out loud,

‘Ah, maybe I ought to take what the council offers me, and never mind my victory.’

‘No!’ Harry protests. ‘Why?’

‘Get you out of here.’ Uma leans back on her hands, draws a circle with her boot on the cabin floor. ‘You’n the crew. It’s getting a little hot on this Isle; Auradon angry; our parents curious. Maybe you don’t need to win. Maybe you just need a place in the sun.’

‘We need to _follow_ you,’ Harry says fiercely. ‘That’s what we promised.’

‘True enough,’ Uma says, ‘but I promised I’d lead you right.’

‘You’ve never led us wrong.’

‘Not yet,’ Uma agrees, a wry little gleam in her eye. She leans forward. Harry leans too, hopeful.

‘One more thing.’

A little frission goes through him, part trepidation, part anticipation.

‘Yes, Captain?’

‘Use the time well tomorrow. Say the little king _is_ holding out on us; say there’s more he could be doing: I want to know about it. More information about Auradon, too. We’re still sailing almost blind. How much power does his father actually have? How much power does his council have? Who are the main players? If we’re going to live there one day, we need to know.’

‘Aye, Captain,’ he says.

‘And Harry? Keep him onside.’

‘I’m to dial up the old charm, Captain?’

‘You won’t have Gil or Mathilde to salve his feelings after you’re done scaring him. Just don’t send him diving into the sea to get away from you, alright?’ She cocks her head to one side. ‘You look unhappy, sweet thing.’

‘He annoys me,’ Harry repeats, trying for petulant.

‘How so?’ Uma asks, her gaze laughing, direct, very watchful.

‘When he starts hatching all those plans,’ Harry says, ‘and making those helpless big eyes…it feels like he’s trying to get that princely magic to work on me. Trying to get us all to start believing him.’ 

‘Magic doesn’t work on the Isle, Harry,’ Uma says dryly.

‘Yours does,’ Harry returns.

Uma laughs at his transparent attempt at flirting. ‘That’s right,’ she says. ‘Well, you can’t be bewitched twice over, can you, pretty thing?’

She slides closer and puts her left arm around his neck. With her right hand she taps his wrist: permission to touch. He lays his hands on her waist; feels the power of her thrum through him.

‘Go ashore,’ she says. ‘Guard my prize, and charm him for me, and I’ll get this ship back on course.’

‘Yes, Captain,’ he murmurs. It feels good to obey.

‘What’s my name?’ she asks.

‘ _Uma_ ,’ he breathes.

‘They’re the ones who landed us on this Isle,’ she says. Her arms wind him slowly in. ‘We’re the ones who are going to get off it.’

‘ _You’re_ the one who’s going to get us off it,’ Harry says. Uma hums in approval.

‘You’ll make yourself useful too, pretty thing,’ she says.

‘That’s me: helpful-like,’ Harry says. He lets his head fall back as her mouth goes to his neck. She sucks gently, and Harry feels his control slipping, like she’s drawing it out of him and into herself.

‘Uma, let me go out flying your colours,’ he says. She moves her hand into his hair and holds him firmly. He feels her teeth pressing into his skin where there were only her lips and tongue before; she bites down hard, then harder, sucking on the mouthful of him she’s got between her teeth.

‘Yes, yes, yes-yes-yes – ’ he gasps. She draws back without opening her mouth, so that her teeth scrape him sharply as they pull free from his neck. Harry winces, leaning with her, chasing the pain.

‘Brave boy,’ Uma says quietly. ‘My fierce boy.’

‘Captain,’ Harry whispers, and she hums in approval. Her thumb goes to his neck and presses into the ache she’s left there. He can tell there’s going to be a good mark.

‘In a moment we’ll go up on deck,’ she says quietly. ‘Make the rounds, take the temperature. Then you turn in early. You know what to do.’ She pulls him in for a moment and cradles his head to her shoulder, nothing but gentle. ‘When this is done I’m going to have all the time in the world for you.’


	2. Chapter Two

It’s the deepest part of the night. Whatever meagre warmth had seeped through the Isle’s cloud cover during the day has long since gone. Harry grits his teeth to keep them from chattering as he picks his way down the corridor towards the cabin Ben’s sleeping in. Uma’s given him a lantern and a splash of their precious whale-oil to work with; the risk of someone seeing the light is less than the risk of him stumbling in the dark and bringing the whole crew running.

Ben doesn’t stir at the click of the lock or the encroaching light. Hallmark of a life spent sleeping in total safety. Harry can’t begin to fathom.

He slips into the cabin and sets the lantern down. Ben is curled as tight inside his blankets as a snail inside its shell. It looks so fucking warm that Harry’s half-tempted to crawl under there with him. Instead he bends over the bed and clamps his hand to Ben’s mouth.

Ben comes awake with a panicked jolt. His limbs jerk, but the bedclothes have him pretty well contained, and Harry adds his weight on top to be sure.

‘Just me,’ he whispers. ‘Need you quiet.’

Ben goes still. Apparently _just me_ from Harry is enough to reassure him. Harry cautiously removes his hand.

‘If you want me to wake up quietly – ’ Ben starts. That’s far too much noise for Harry’s liking. The hand goes back.

‘We’re going on a little walk,’ Harry says. Ben’s breath is damp on his fingers; he can feel his neck muscles straining as he tries to pull away. ‘Get up, shoes on. Quiet this time?’

Ben’s eyes are huge over Harry’s hand. He nods. Harry cautiously gives him his mouth back again.

‘Does Uma know?’ Ben whispers. Harry’s pleased. He wouldn’t call Ben loyal to the captain – no need to get carried away – but he knows which side his bread’s buttered.

‘What are you going to do if she doesn’t?’ he asks.

‘Scream,’ Ben says at once.

‘Attaboy. She’s waiting upstairs.’

Harry wrenches back the covers and Ben gasps and throws down his hands to cover himself. From the cold, that is; he’s sleeping fully clothed, just like a pirate born and bred. The Isle isn’t exactly the climate for loungewear.

Ben rolls out of bed, shivering, sticks his feet into his shoes and bends down to lace them. Harry grabs Jay’s beanie hat and the leather jacket Evie made and passes them over. He watches as Ben tugs the beanie down over his fringe. The full villain ensemble. Fucking adorable.

Ben gives him a questioning look. Harry points to the door and mouths _quietly._ Ben nods and slips out of the cabin. Harry follows behind him, raising the lantern up to light both their paths up onto the deck.

It’s almost as dark outside as it was below. The barrier’s blanket of cloud seems extra lowering, as if the Isle is growing more determined to keep them in the closer they get to breaking out. There’s a wind blowing, stuffy and cold at the same time. Harry thinks back to Ben’s explanations of magic that afternoon, and wonders if there’s a class at Auradon Prep that that explains what the barrier does to the weather on the Isle. He doesn’t have to have experienced anything else to know that it isn’t natural. The air presses down on him, the calm before a storm that never breaks. He feels claustrophobic. If they can’t bargain their way out, he’s going to take his hook and _claw_ his way out.

The lantern light gleams golden off the wet boards, then picks out a patch of turquoise. Uma, standing at the rail, waiting for them.

‘Morning, boys,’ she says.

‘What’s happening?’ Ben says. He’s still whispering. Obedient to a fault. It’s hard to believe that twelve hours ago he was dangling over the side for a chat with Hook against Uma’s express orders, but Harry’s not going to be lulled.

‘You’re going ashore for the day,’ Uma says, low.

‘What for?’ It’s a _hopeful_ whisper this time. Uma wastes no time quashing it.

‘So our parents don’t find you while I get our allies together.’

‘I see.’ A flicker of the lantern shows Ben glancing around the ship. He’s clearly working out why he’s being smuggled out without the crew knowing. The fact that he telegraphs his thoughts so clearly he might as well be narrating them out loud is small consolation.

 _No matter_ , Harry tells himself. _So he knows we’ve got trouble. He won’t get the chance to use it. I won’t let him_.

‘Won’t it be easier for your parents to get at me on shore than on the ship?’ Ben asks.

‘If they notice you’re ashore,’ Uma agrees, ‘which is why you’ll be extremely quiet and do exactly as Harry says, won’t you?’

Ben swallows. ‘Of course.’

‘Your track record is not great,’ Harry says. ‘Please take all the safety precautions I suggest.’

‘Tell me,’ Uma says, ‘have I given you any reason to complain about your treatment while you’ve been aboard ship?’

‘None at all,’ Ben says.

‘Don’t count on the same treatment from any other villain you might meet,’ Uma says flatly. ‘And don’t expect it to continue from me, either, if you do anything to upset my plans.’

‘I wouldn’t,’ Ben says. ‘I want this to go well, Uma.’

And there are those big eyes, like he’s trying to get the princely magic to work. Trying to get them to trust him. It’s nothing he hasn’t said a dozen times before, but it still sends a prickle down Harry’s spine.

‘Then we won’t have a problem,’ Uma tells Ben coolly. ‘Right. Let’s get going.’

‘Right you are, Captain,’ Harry says. ‘Alright, your majesty. Shoes off, shirt off.’

‘Why?’ Ben asks, suddenly uneasy.

‘Because he said so,’ Uma says. She throws down an oilcloth sack, and Harry strips off his coat and packs it in, then bends down to start on his boots.

‘No need to be shy,’ he says. ‘It’s dark.’

Ben sighs, but he finally starts undressing. Harry grimaces as he drags his shirt off over his head and the wind starts whipping away all that heat he’d worked so hard to build up. This isn’t going to be fun, but afterwards they’ll be glad their clothing isn’t soaked through.

Ben tucks his shirt and jacket into the sack. He’s already shivering. Harry balances his longsword, short sword and hook across the top of the sack, ties them in place, scoops up the whole bundle and glances at Uma. She’s intent on the docks, watching for movement. Nipples as pointy as hobnails and she’s not even pausing to give him the once-over. Harry’s starting to feel rather sorry for himself.

Better get it over with. He jerks his head, indicating to Ben that he should step up to the rail. There’s a rope ladder there, furled up tight, and Harry fumbles the ties open with his chilly fingers so that it tumbles down to the waterline.

'Down you go,' he says.

Ben looks at Harry like he's joking – which in fairness Harry often is.

'What about the killer sharks?' he whispers.

'Even a killer shark can't be everywhere at once,' Harry replies.

'There are shark attacks here sometimes,' Uma says, ‘but you’re only going to be in the water for a minute. You’ll be fine.’

‘You're not bleeding anywhere, are you?' Harry adds.

'No.'

'Would you like to be?' Harry asks pointedly. Ben gives him a look that's more wounded than frightened and clambers over the gunwale.

'He's getting bolshie,' Harry mutters, leaning over to watch his progress.

‘So handle it,’ Uma says. She touches his cheek, turns him to face her. ‘Lay low. No surprises, alright?’

‘Aye, Captain.’

‘Good luck,’ she says, putting her thumb to the bruise she gave him before.

‘Don’t need it,’ he replies. He swings his leg over the rail and starts down the ladder.

Below them there's a faint splash and gasp as Ben goes down into the water.

'Quietly!' Harry hisses a reminder as he climbs. His toes reach the water line. He steels himself and drops. Ice-cold water envelops him. His feet hit the seabed and bury themselves up to the ankles in silt. 

‘You could have mentioned it wasn’t deep!’ Ben whispers sharply. The water is lapping around their chests. Harry wishes he could see the expression on Ben’s face. If it’s anything like as aggrieved as his voice, it’s probably hilarious.

‘Is it my fault you don’t know the tide tables?’ Harry whispers back. He kicks his feet. The muddy sand is trying to suck him down. He hitches the pack up high on his back. It’s half-submerged, but the mouth is above the water. At least their shirts and boots are going to stay dry, and his weapons.

Down here the sound of the sea is a constant susurration, much louder than on deck, echoing off the side of the _Revenge_ and the underneath of the jetty. The waves rock them back and forth. It’s black as pitch in the shadow of the ship. Uma must have hidden the lantern; holding it up to light their way would be a dead giveaway to anybody watching. The waves are only small, but they come from all sides, bouncing off ship and dock and trying to lift Ben and Harry off their feet. It’s cold as death. They’ve got to move.

‘That way,’ Harry whispers, giving Ben a push. ‘Follow the echo. That’s the dock.’

They flounder their way to the jetty, and Harry gropes along it until his hands hit a ladder, rickety and slimy, that leads up out of the water. It’s been less than a minute since they left the _Revenge_ , and his fingers are already so numb he can hardly grip the rungs. He finds Ben’s hand in the dark and guides him to the ladder, waiting until he feels him realise what he’s holding and grip on tight. Then he starts to climb. The wood creaks alarmingly, but takes his weight. Ben follows him up. 

‘Clothes,’ Harry says tersely, the moment they reach the top of the dock. He buckles his weapons back on first of all, before Ben can get any ideas. He can hear the shudder of his breath as they fumble for their shirts and dress by touch. Pushing his wet arms through the leather sleeves of his coat feels awful, but he pulls it on gratefully anyway. There’s nothing like leather for keeping heat in – not to mention blades out. He feels an unexpected surge of appreciation for Evie, who’s made sure Ben was kitted out for this adventure in that charming blue jacket.

As he struggles with his boot laces, Harry strains his ears for the faintest sound. Hopefully they’ve been quiet enough not to attract attention. Hopefully there’s nobody around to hear anyway. But after yesterday, there might be eyes on the dock. If Ben doesn’t know the tide tables, his da certainly does. It might be a good time to try and storm the ship. It’s a good thing he and the hostage aren’t on it. Harry turns away, trying not to think of all the crew who still are.

The barest hint of grey is creeping into the sky; enough that, if he strains his eyes, he can make out a vaguely moving shape that must be Ben. Not enough to see his face or get any kind of read on what he’s thinking. Is he going to make trouble? It’s the first time in a week that he’s set foot on shore. If he’s going to kick up a fuss, it’ll be now. One shout would be enough to bring somebody running. It would likely be somebody more dangerous to him than Harry, but then again it might not. There are probably people on the Isle who’d be willing to escort Ben to safety in exchange for their personal freedom; a more acceptable bargain to Auradon than Uma’s radical demands. And if it were Harry he’d shout out of spite anyway.

But that’s him. Hopefully Ben’s still too surprised by all this to start weighing up his chances. All the more reason to keep moving.

‘Dressed?’ Harry whispers.

‘Yes.’

‘Stay quiet. This way. Here’s my arm.’

Ben moves like he’s expecting a hole to open up under his feet any second – which, in fairness, it might. But Harry’s been running around these docks since he was old enough to walk. He half-leads, half-drags Ben onto dry land and down the first alley they come to. It gets noticeably darker as soon as the Isle’s tall buildings hem them in – which just goes to show how much lighter it was getting out in the open. They’ll have to hurry if they want to be hidden in the lodge before the Isle starts to wake up.

‘Where are we going?’ Ben asks.

‘Somewhere we can lay low,’ Harry mutters. With his left hand he draws Ben alongside him and takes his arm. With his right he grabs the rope he keeps coiled on his belt. He flicks the end up and loops it over Ben’s wrist.

‘Seriously?’ Ben demands. He tries to take a step back and Harry tightens his grip on him, reaching for his other wrist. ‘What do you think I’m going to _do_?’

‘Make trouble,’ Harry says.

'I promised to help you! I agreed to cooperate!’

‘Cooperate now, then,’ Harry snaps.

Ben sighs, slumps a little and holds out his wrists.

‘That’s better,’ Harry says. Ben holds still, so he gets Harry’s best knot-work, nice and snug but not too tight. Still, Harry almost feels bad about it. Uma’s usual policy is to reward good behaviour, and Ben has been _very_ good, for a hostage. But they can’t afford to get sloppy. You cut a corner here, a corner there, and next thing you know they’re knifing you in the back and sprinting for the barrier.

Ben doesn’t try to resist when Harry makes to blindfold him, but he does say, with a certain amount of bite,

‘You know there’s no way I’m going to blend in like this.’

‘No way you were going to blend in anyway, sweetheart,’ Harry says. ‘Gil clocked you straight away, remember?’

Even in twilight with half his face covered, Ben manages to look dejected at that, so Harry gives him a bracing clap on the shoulder.

‘You can’t stop royal breeding from shining through; no need to be ashamed of that,’ he says, and then the bracing clap turns into a bit of a soothing massage, because he doesn’t want to be so harsh that Ben ends up kicking up trouble just to get away from him. ‘Best behaviour now, alright?’

‘Alright,’ Ben agrees.

‘Good boy,’ Harry says, giving him one last squeeze. He guides Ben’s hand to his shoulder. ‘This way.’

Ben’s not wrong about the risks of parading him through the streets like this. All they need is one person to see them and decide it’s their business. He hopes with all his might that they don’t meet anybody – but the Isle’s never been a very hopeful place.

It helps that he knows these streets like the back of his hand. He leads the way down blind, half-derelict alleys that nobody would bother to loiter or mug in, and where the ground is too waterlogged for rough sleeping. And they’re not going far, and it’s still barely dawn. He strains his ears for any sound of footsteps, keeping one hand on Ben’s back to guide him. Ben’s steps falter, and every few moments he stumbles. His hand on Harry’s shoulder and Harry’s hand on his collar keep him upright each time.

‘You’re alright,’ he mutters. ‘One foot at a time; you’re fine.’ He finds himself being reassuring, because he wants to keep them moving. He’s double-checking all their decisions as he goes. Would they be faster with Ben unbound? Almost certainly. Can he trust Ben unbound? God only knows. Would he be more trustworthy if they _acted_ like they trusted him? That works on new recruits to the crew, but does it work on Auradonians? Uma would know, but Uma’s not here; Uma’s on the ship, trying to broker a deal with _parents_ because of how wrong everything’s gone. She was right: the wand for the crown was the best plan. Now they actually _know_ the king, and the whole Isle knows they’ve got him. It’s a mess.

And then they’re on the right street, approaching Gaston’s old lodge.

Back before Ursula started leaving the chip shop more and more to Uma, and before they won the _Lost Revenge_ , she, Harry and Gil used to spend a lot of time here. Inside Gaston’s territory and safe from his enemies, but well away from where the man himself liked to spend his time, after the damp got bad and the rats moved in. The knot of tension in Harry’s shoulders loosens at the familiar sight. He itches to get them under cover.

 _Don’t get comfortable_ , he reminds himself. What’s safe for a gaggle of kids isn’t necessarily a safe hiding place for the literal crown jewels. He’s starting to wonder if it wouldn’t have been safer to stay on the ship, but it’s too late for that now.

‘Here,’ he says, and brings Ben to a halt. Ben scans left and right, as if he’s hoping to see though the blindfold. Harry turns him to the right.

Harry’s no expert, but he doubts this is what a real hunting lodge supposed to look like. The roof is corrugated iron. There’s a distinct lack of trophies, on account of the Isle having no large wild animals to hunt. The whole building is slumping slowly into the street like it’s given up. Gaston had made a start on carving the doorposts but abandoned the project halfway. The timber’s good though. Gil’s been talking for a long time about salvaging it for the _Revenge_ , but he hasn’t quite worked up the nerve yet. The door’s hanging off its hinges, but at least it’s still there.

‘There’s a step up,’ he tells Ben, taking him firmly by the shoulders. ‘Right there…in you go.’

There’s a patter and squeak as they step inside. A dozen rats scattering into the walls. _Sorry, boys_ , Harry thinks, _I’ve got to interrupt your daily routine on account of the king’s here_. There’s a lot of that going round.

The lodge is just one room inside. There’s a bit of dilapidated furniture – a table, a dresser with no drawers, a rickety-looking chair – and the floorboards, raised up off ground level in an effort to get above the damp, are cracked and greying. A half-shuttered, unglazed window is letting in a little of the pre-dawn light. It’s let in quite a bit of rain over time as well, judging by the dampness of the floor. All the same, Harry feels better as he pulls the door closed behind them. They might be in enemy territory, but at least a casual glance isn’t going to get them caught any more.

‘Home, sweet home,’ he says, and whips Ben’s blindfold off.

‘Ouch!’ Ben says. ‘Hair.’

‘My bad,’ Harry says. He doesn’t like to dish out pain accidentally; it’s amateurish. He gives Ben’s hair a quick ruffle to compensate. ‘At least you can see again?’

‘Yes,’ Ben says. ‘Thank you.’

‘Thank _you_ for being so obliging,’ Harry says. ‘Well, make yourself comfortable, your majesty.’

Ben looks around him, with that wide-eyed, tense-jawed look that Harry knows means he’s shocked. A rat tucks its bald tail more firmly into one dark corner. Ben’s eyes go to the movement, and his expression takes a step from shocked towards alarmed.

Well, he chose to come chasing after his girlfriend. If he doesn’t like it on the Isle, he could have stayed home.

Finally, Ben seems to register Harry’s instruction. _Make yourself comfortable_. Unfortunately, Harry’s already settling himself into the only chair.

‘First mate,’ he says, getting himself comfortable.

‘King?’ Ben suggests.

‘Hostage,’ Harry replies. Ben gives him a dubious look and then settles himself against the wall. He picks a nice dry spot, away from the door, right in Harry’s line of sight, but he looks very tentative about actually putting buttocks to ground.

‘Have you ever even sat on the ground before?’ Harry asks.

‘I’ve sat on the grass,’ Ben says. ‘Are you going to untie me now?’

‘Hmm.’ Harry looks him up and down. ‘No, I think I like you the way you are.’

Ben blushes. Harry laughs a little. Ben glances away for a moment, but then looks back. His ability to maintain eye contact while flustered is honestly one of the most unnerving things about him.

‘What is this place?’ he asks.

‘Loose lips sink ships,’ Harry replies.

‘It won’t mean anything to me. I don’t know where anything is on the Isle. Please just tell me…something.’

He sounds so helpless. It’s five o’clock and it’s already been a rough morning. Harry’s looking at a whole day and more of just the two of them, and he’d rather it not be a day filled with anxious questions.

‘This is the lodge,’ he says. ‘It belongs to Gil’s dad.’

‘I thought we were in a fight with Gil’s dad.’

‘Oh, we are,’ Harry says. ‘That’s the genius of the plan, you see. If anybody comes looking for you on the ship and finds you gone, next thing they’ll do is scour Uma’s territory on shore. But here, well, old Gaston doesn’t use the place any more, but nobody who’s not on his crew would dare hunt here without his say-so.’

‘And if nobody outside the crew even knows I’m not on board, hopefully they won’t be looking,’ Ben says.

‘Exactly!’ Harry exclaims. ‘It’s fool-proof.’

‘I see,’ Ben says. ‘Er…how likely is it that one of Gaston’s people _does_ decide to wander by?’

‘Eh.’ Harry shrugs eloquently. ‘No idea. With the _Revenge_ out and the chip shop, ah, inhospitable, we are _scraping_ the bottom of the barrel for hiding places, but isn’t that half the fun? Trusting blindly to luck?’

‘The chip shop? Isn’t that where I met you?’ Ben says.

‘Met me. Beautiful euphemism. Now stop piecing together that map of the Isle in your head.’

‘I’ll try,’ Ben says. ‘Why is the chip shop inhospitable now?’

‘Well, it never was very,’ Harry deflects with a giggle.

‘Ursula knows about me, doesn’t she?’ Ben says. He makes those big, solemn eyes.

‘Do you feel the tentacles tightening yet, princey?’ Harry asks. He’s cursing himself. Ben didn’t need to know that, and Harry blurted it out without event thinking.

‘I’m sorry to have caused so much trouble,’ Ben says.

‘Ah, well, you know, any time you start to feel _really_ sorry about that,’ Harry says, ‘there’s an easy solution.’

Ben turns away, making a face that starts with a smile and ends with a grimace.

‘I’m talking about opening the barrier,’ Harry adds.

‘Yes, I got that,’ Ben says.

‘This council of yours have heard Uma’s demands,’ Harry says, ‘but they haven’t had any orders from you yet.’

‘I told them to negotiate with Uma,’ Ben says. ‘I’ve made it clear that your crew aren’t to be punished. I know you only kidnapped me because you didn’t think you had any other options. There’s a little steel in his voice. It’s the first time Harry’s heard him refer to being _kidnapped_. Apparently a surprise awakening and a pre-dawn dip is enough to fray even that sweet princely temper.

‘I quake at the thought of the punishments we’d be suffering if it wasn’t for your mercy,’ Harry says. He actually _does_ , but he’s not going to admit to Ben how precarious their situation is. ‘So you’ve told the council to “negotiate” with Uma, whatever that means. How about telling them to do as she says?’

‘Do you think they would treat that as an authentic order?’ Ben asks. Harry scowls. Of course they wouldn’t. They’ll claim Ben is under duress as long as he’s on the Isle, but as soon as Uma lets him go…well, he won’t be under duress any more, will he? He’ll be free to forget all about them. It’s an impossible situation.

‘I could persuade them to reconsider the barrier,’ Ben continues, ‘if you’d let me go – ’

‘ _Home._ ’ Harry finishes the sentence perfectly in time with Ben. ‘No. Keep your voice down.’

‘How long are you planning to keep me hidden here, anyway?’ Ben asks. ‘Now that your father knows about me – ’

‘Oh.’ Harry tuts in mock-sympathy, moves his lips in an exaggerated pout. ‘Scared of the villains catching you, are you?’

‘ _You_ seem to be,’ Ben replies, glancing at Harry’s swords. Harry raises one eyebrow, trying not to show the stab of anger that goes through him at Ben’s words. ‘If you and Uma come to the mainland with me you’ll be – ’

‘Safe?’ Harry cuts him off. ‘Now, don’t you worry about that. There’s only one person you should be worrying about.’

‘Is it me?’ Ben asks. Harry waggles his hook in response. Ben smiles again, wryly, and settles back against the wall. He looks tired. He shivers a little. Harry’s cold too, still wet from the waist down. And he’s not going to be catching up on any sleep either, not with this one to watch. It looks set to be a very long day.

‘I don’t even know what I’d tell them if I was there,’ Ben says, so quietly that Harry’s not even sure he’s expecting a reply. He really doesn’t want to reply. The last thing he wants to do is spend the day listening to King Ben feel sad about his problems. But then, isn’t that what Uma told him to spend the day doing? Find out how Auradon works so that they’ll be better prepared?

‘Why not tell them, “I’m king, take the barrier down?”’ Harry asks probingly. ‘Sounds pretty simple to me.’ He remembers what Uma said Ursula’d said. _Look to the king’s own power_. He knows that Ursula’s not to be listened to, but that sounds pretty straight-forward.

‘Being king doesn’t just mean having your own way all the time,’ Ben says. ‘It’s the king’s job to do what’s best for everyone. I have to listen to what the people of Auradon think.’

‘Doubt the people of Auradon are going to ever think that taking down the barrier is best for them,’ Harry says. ‘Not unless they realise it’s the only way they’re getting their beloved king back. You know you’re terrible at giving me reasons _not_ to damage you, your majesty?’

Ben _smiles_ at that. It’s a problem. Harry’s starting to hope this all goes irrevocably south just so that he can see the look on Ben’s face when he finally learns that none of Harry’s threats are idle.

‘When Uma gives you orders,’ Ben says, ‘does she just say, “I’m captain, do as I say?”’

Harry blinks. ‘Of course.’

‘And what if she gave you orders you didn’t like?’

‘I’m starting to think that you don’t understand what the word _captain_ means, princey.’

‘ _I_ think,’ Ben says, ‘that she works very hard to make choices within the bounds of what the crew will accept. And when she has to make an unusual choice, she finds ways to persuade you all to agree. She’s much better at it than I am.’

‘Uma could persuade fish to set her nets for her,’ Harry says, ‘but I don’t know when you’ve seen her do it. Crew’s happy with all her choices.’

It’s a bare-faced lie, and the comfortable days when Harry was confident that Ben couldn’t spot even bare-faced lies are long behind them.

‘You’re a wonderful team,’ he says, giving no sign that he’s aware of how close the crew is to outright mutiny. ‘I wish my council were like that.’ His face is open and clear, like those bits of water where the bottom looks close enough to touch but turns out to be fathoms deep when you drop the sound in. Harry fights off a sense of vertigo and kicks back in his chair. He’s on the chair, and Ben’s on the floor, and that’s where they’ll say until they’re done with this mess.

‘So what happens if you give your council an order they don’t like?’ he asks. ‘Mutiny?’

‘Muttering,’ Ben replies.

‘Sounds dire.’

‘It is. It can be…difficult if they don’t like current policy.’

‘Difficult how? It’s a whole nother world to me, princey; you’re going to have to be more specific.’

‘Well, legally, they’re there to give me advice, not to decide policy.’ Ben explains. ‘The final decision always lies with the king. But practically, well, they’re some of the most powerful people in Auradon, so they have to be listened to. Uma wouldn’t just _ignore_ …say, Shan Yu. You’re on good terms with him, aren’t you? She wouldn’t just ignore what he said.’

Damn, he really is piecing together a map of the Isle. ‘Shan Yu has a habit of spitting people who ignore him,’ Harry says. ‘What do the princes and princesses do if they get ignored?’

‘There’s all sorts of ways that they can be helpful or unhelpful, depending on whether or not they like an idea,’ Ben says. ‘But I suppose the main one is that they control the state finances. The money, I mean.’

‘I know big words, your highness,’ Harry says. ‘Does old Fairy Godmother charge to take barriers down, then?’

‘Barriers are free,’ Ben replies.

‘Then I’m not really seeing why meeting my captain’s demands is expensive.’

‘If large numbers of people are going to be relocated from the Isle to the mainland,’ Ben says, ‘there’s housing, medical care, places in school…I funded it myself when it was only four, but for the whole Isle…’

He trails off. He looks away from Harry, his eyes locking onto a blank spot on the opposite wall. Harry realises that he’s actually thinking. He’s chewing on this problem, right here, right now.

For just a second, Harry pictures what a world with a trustworthy Ben in it would look like. What if he really was working his hardest to fix this problem, just like Uma, and they could let him go over to the mainland and know that he'd come back, the way Harry _knows_ that Uma would come back if she –

Harry shakes his head. Damned princely magic. It's not happening. He’s not going to trust Ben, and they’re _not_ turning him loose.

A rat scampers right across the middle of the floor, bold as anything. Harry wonders about taking a stab at the next one that tries it. Then he wonders how his majesty would react to being invited to eat rat.

It had never occurred to him to feel ashamed of that kind of thing before Ben showed up. Uma didn't spend all her time worrying about how much better things were on Auradon before he started whisking away his precious few chosen kids. He really is the fucking _worst._

Ben leans forward to watch the rat go past. He looks more curious than upset.

'Not so scary up close, are they?' Harry challenges.

'A lot of things on this Isle aren't so scary up close,' Ben replies. Harry blinks. He supposes he ought to take offense at being compared to a rat, but he can't help appreciating the sheer brass balls of it. He laughs instead.

'That's us,' he says. 'Street rats hiding from the big sharks.' He twitches his foot at Ben. 'You too, princey.'

'Why would rats hide from sharks?' Ben asks, peering into the corner where the rat is washing its whiskers. Harry scowls. 'They're really quite cute.'

'They're dirty,' Harry says.

'He's trying his best to keep clean,' Ben says. Harry scoffs.

'If I'm not careful you'll be trying to smuggle one home in your pocket,' he says. ‘But then that’s your thing, isn’t it? Trying to make pets out of strays?’

Ben looks amused and thoughtful and sad all at once, and doesn’t say anything.

‘You know it’s no fun for me when you don’t fight back,’ Harry tries.

‘Why should I argue? It’s true.’

‘Really?’ Harry lets his voice and his eyebrows go up. ‘You picked the ones you wanted for pets? And here the official line was always that you picked the ones who needed it most.’

Ben gives a dismissive little twitch of his head. ‘I hurt the ones I didn’t pick,’ he says, ‘so how I picked doesn’t really matter, does it? Uma explained that.’

‘Damn, when’s somebody going to make a pet out of me?’ Harry complains.

‘Isn’t that Uma?’ Ben asks.

‘Correct!’ Harry exclaims. He’s surprised to hear Ben couch it in those terms, but not displeased. It’s accurate. ‘Not everybody on the Isle eats fish twice a week, you know.’

‘She does right by you all,’ Ben says. It always warms Harry up to hear Uma praised, but he’s waiting for the sting in the tail, and there it comes. ‘You know I’d take you to Auradon if you asked.’

‘You never give up, do you?’ Harry says. ‘Thanks, but I saw what happened to Mal.’

It’s hard to tell in the greyish dawn light, but he thinks Ben colours up a little. If he’s honest, Harry’s not feeling entirely comfortable himself. For the first time, he asks himself what it must really have been _like_ for Mal, suddenly being whisked away from the Isle and given everything. Harry may not know much but he knows that he probably can’t even imagine what _everything_ involves. In Auradon they probably have it better than a villain’s most envious dreams. And Isle kids all know how dangerous it is when you’re getting _everything_ from the hand of one person; _everything_ is what Jafar, Ursula, Facilier used to offer; but _everything_ on Auradon comes from this king who looks like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. No wonder Mal’s crew had all gone bonkers trying to figure it out.

‘I honestly never meant for it to happen like it did,’ Ben says, very softly. It sounds like whatever he’s about to say, he’s saying it out loud for the first time. ‘I thought I’d bring them over, show them round and then we’d see each other for the odd public relations…I didn’t think they’d…’

‘Earn their keep?’ Harry suggests.

‘Be my _friends_!’ Ben snaps. He hunts around with his eyes and twists his wrists against the rope. He looks like he wants to crawl out of his own skin to get away from what Harry just implied.

‘Ah, no, it’s actually no fun when you fight back either,’ Harry says.

‘It’s no fun being _mean_ ,’ Ben replies, sounding quite testy. He gives his wrists another twist.

‘If you keep wriggling I’ll just tie you up tighter,' Harry says. ‘How’s that for mean?’

‘I don’t mind it as long as there’s a point to it,’ Ben says.

‘You don’t mind it, eh?’ Harry lets his smile sharpen. It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask if people in Auradon ever tie each other up for recreational purposes, but something holds him back. Possibly the fact that Ben’s looking so uncomfortable already. Possibly the sheer amount of explaining he’d have to do if Ben’s really as innocent as he plays.

‘It’s fine,’ Ben says. ‘Just…don’t say I brought them to Auradon to get some kind of…don’t.’

‘Alright,’ Harry agrees, ‘but you’re going to have to tell me what the plan _was_ , then. Four’s the perfect number for pets. You could fit that many under your bed, I bet, _and_ have some space left over for rats. But if it was really meant to be the first step in some kind of program, then…what? Couldn’t do a round dozen? Symbolic seven?’

‘Well,’ Ben says, ‘I suppose I wanted to do a number so small that nobody could possibly object to it. My father was alarmed when I first suggested the idea to him, but he realised quite quickly that being worried about four kids…well, seemed a bit silly. And I hoped, once people had got used to the idea…and they did, you know. I know that you don’t like Mal, but she was working wonders in terms of making people like the idea of villain kids coming to Auradon. But, well, you know, I got busy being king. My fault.’

‘Huh.’ Harry tries to keep his voice casual. ‘So, old King Adam wasn’t so keen on the idea of villain kids coming over, was he? Even four little ones?’

‘It’s so much more personal for him than for me, you see,’ Ben says. ‘I grew up in peacetime.’

‘Yeah, your dad had a lot of personal beef with mine,’ Harry mutters sarcastically.

‘Anything that caused trouble in one of his realms was personal for him,’ Ben says, ‘but, to me, the Isle is a realm as well, and I’ve got to look out for it.’

‘Uma’s realm, your majesty,’ Harry says.

‘Parts of it,’ Ben agrees, ‘and she got them for herself, which is more than I can say.’

‘Damn right,’ Harry says. He turns over what Ben’s said so far, trying to decide on his next question. He’d always assumed one of two things. Either Ben had decided to rescue four kids who he like the look of, without really planning to make a regular thing of it. Or his advisors had come up with it; a generous act to make people go all gooey over the new king. The idea that it was Ben’s own idea, and that the rest of the court didn’t like it, is novel. And if Ben really was invested in the idea of bringing villain kids over – before he got “busy” – that’ll be useful to know.

Not that Harry’s going to start trusting him, believing that he wants to help. Definitely not.

‘So, that first proclamation was all your own?’ he probes. ‘We all thought it was more of a joint effort from the, er, council. Or from old King Beast.’

‘You know it’s King Benjamin now,’ Ben replies.

‘Oh, aye, and my father might’ve made me Captain Harry by now if Uma could do without me,’ Harry says. ‘But that doesn’t mean I’d have it all my own way. A man doesn’t just throw his son into the trade without guiding his hand for a few years.’

‘I think my father was ready and willing to guide me more than he has done,’ Ben says, ‘but…I wanted to do a good job. He ruled for fifteen years. He deserves to let someone else handle things.’

Harry narrows his eyes. He’s going to have to do some translating here, he realises. You can’t expect a _good_ person to sit and cackle about how they’re planning to overthrow their father, but…

‘ _Princey_ ,’ he says, ‘are you telling me you plotted to edge your dear father out of the corridors of power?’

‘I didn’t plot,’ Ben says mildly, ‘and I’m not a prince.’

Under all the layers of sadness and seriousness and plain old heroic boredom, he looks…mischievous.

‘Alright, alright, alright,’ Harry says, and he gets up out of his chair, crosses the room and sits himself against the wall beside Ben. If Ben’s going to start being interesting, he’s going to get friendly Harry. Besides, it’s not like the floorboards can make his arse any damper and more uncomfortable than it already is. ‘I need to get this straight. So your daddy decided to put you on the throne…’

‘To ensure a smooth handover of power while he’s still fit and well, yes.’ Ben looks flustered to find Harry suddenly next to him. He shuffles a little, half-turning towards him and contriving to scoot further away from him at the same time. Excellent.

‘And the second he handed over power…’ Harry says, and looks expectantly at Ben. Ben just stares back at him and looks all kinds of uncomfortable. Harry’s hook, Harry’s charm or Harry’s line of questioning? ‘Come on, what? You just started slinging proclamations around?’

‘Well, I had to choose something for my first official act as king,’ Ben says. ‘Something that would set the precedent for my reign…’

‘Something extremely controversial, apparently.’

‘I didn’t think it _was_ controversial!’ Ben laughs, and suddenly Harry can see volumes written in his face. Confusion and frustration that the whole of Auradon doesn’t find villain kids as adorable and redeemable as he does.

He’s doing it again. Seeming trustworthy. His eyes pour out so much sincerity that it leaves Harry feeling dazed. Damned princely magic.

Good thing it’s not his job to draw conclusions about Ben’s honesty. That’s for Uma to do. Harry’s job is to get information to help her do it. He quiets the part of his brain that’s trying to judge – and judging all wrong – and just listens.

‘I assumed…that the Isle…’ Ben goes slowly, seems to wrestle with the words in his mouth. Harry listens. ‘It was working. In terms of protecting Auradon from magical attackers, it was working. My father solved the villain problem and then focussed on other problems. But it’s twenty years down the line. I thought it was clearly time for a review. I thought that the start of a new reign was an excellent time for it. But…’

He trails off. He’s quiet for so long that Harry decides to prod.

‘You thought he was only imprisoning kids because he’d forgotten about it, but it turned out he was doing it on purpose?’

‘This wasn’t what he wanted! He did the best he – ’ Ben cuts off. He seems to realise he’s come within a lick of justifying the Isle to Harry’s face. He looks actually angry though; it seems Harry’s touched a nerve.

He decides to touch it again.

‘You gonna tell me it was for the best?’ he asks.

‘I know you don’t deserve this,’ Ben says stiffly, the same way he said it to Uma, on the first day.

‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’ Harry sprawls back against the wall and flashes a smirk. ‘I’d probably wreak some havoc out in the world if I could. But come on, princey. Tell me what you really think. Are you going to tell me your father made a mess and you’re picking up the pieces? Or are you going to say he did the right thing after all?’

Ben’s jaw goes tight. He says nothing.

‘I might have to stop liking you if you say that, though,’ Harry needles.

‘You don’t like me anyway,’ Ben snaps. ‘And you can’t claim things would be any better if he’d made a different decision. Do you like the idea of your parents roaming around free? Do you think they’d treat _you_ any differently?’

‘You don’t know how my father treats me,’ Harry says coolly, ‘and things wouldn’t be much worse.’

He says it with confidence, but it’s not really a question he’s considered before. How _would_ their parents have treated them if they hadn’t been locked on a prison island? Would they have been better, with less to make them miserable? Or would they have somehow been worse?

Reading between the lines, Ben’s parents seem to have managed to be pretty bad, even living in a perfect land. He decides to explore that a little further.

‘You know,’ he says, ‘nobody likes criticising their da. Hell, mine used to lock me in my cabin all the time, and it was _years_ before Uma got me to say – ’

‘Do not,’ Ben says, ‘compare my father to anybody on this island.’

‘Why not?’ Harry says recklessly. ‘They both lock up kids; sounds pretty fucking apt to me.’

He wonders whether he’s going to finally hear what Ben yelling looks like. He wonders if Ben’s going to tell him that heroes are nothing like villains, that he’s better and the Islanders can all go rot, and show his true stripes at last. He wonders if Ben’s going to lose that little bit of backbone he seemed to be growing and just start crying.

He also remembers thinking on how Ben’s sad all the time, wondering if it’s sadness all the way to the top. If it was villains all the way to the top as well, he’d have to laugh.

At least on the Isle they all know their parents are bastards. Being the son of a bastard king would have to be a special kind of hell.

‘He did lock up kids,’ Ben says. His voice is low, and a little rough. Probably he’s trying to keep it from wobbling. ‘I don’t know why he did it.’

‘I think we both know why he did it,’ Harry says.

‘What does it matter why he did it?’ Ben flares. ‘I’m going to _un_ do it. Or I would if you’d let me off this _damned_ island.’

‘ _Very_ nice try,’ Harry says. ‘You’ve got me this close to trusting your promises.’

Ben slumps back against the wall in disgust, eyes falling shut. ‘I suppose I don’t deserve a second chance,’ he says, ‘since I forgot about you all the first time round.’

‘And yet you want to give your da one?’ Harry asks.

‘Of course. Don’t we all like to think the best of our parents?’

‘Not me. My father’s a bastard and you won’t catch me saying otherwise. But then, I suppose I’ve had more practise. Him fetching up here was a pretty big clue.’

Ben huffs something between a sigh and the world’s most dispiriting laugh. ‘I suppose it was,’ he says. ‘And I’m sorry, by the way – ’

‘Oh Christ, what for this time?’

‘For what your dad did to you. Locking you up. You didn’t deserve that.’

‘You don’t know what I deserved, princey,’ Harry says. ‘Right little scallywag, I was. But anyway, it’s all in the past. I’m in Uma’s crew now, and _she_ only locks me up if I really deserve it. So cheer up.’

Ben gives a little smile at that. It looks like a lot of effort, but it’s there. Harry’s relieved. He was worried he’d gone too far, that his majesty would be in a right royal sulk for the rest of the day. And they can’t have that. Harry’s supposed to be getting information. That, and this conversation is his only way of passing the time.

He kicks his legs and wriggles his shoulders. The morning is well underway. The lodge is full of cold grey light. But he’s still damp from their swim, and damnably cold.

It reminds him that he ought to check Ben’s fingers.

‘Give me your hands,’ he says.

‘What for?’

‘Need to check you’re not going numb from the rope.’

‘You could always untie me,’ Ben suggests. Harry snorts.

‘You’re a real optimist, aren’t you?’ He takes Ben’s hand. ‘Squeeze my fingers.’

‘I like to stay hopeful,’ Ben says. He grips Harry’s hand firmly. Nothing wrong there. His hands are warmer than Harry’s. Lucky bastard. ‘I don’t remember you checking my circulation when you first tied me to the mast, for example. Sometimes things do get better.’

‘I must be soaking up all that goodness already,’ Harry says.

‘Can I ask you something?’ Ben says. ‘About Uma?’

‘You may,’ Harry says, ‘if you tell me something about Auradon first.’

‘I’ve already told you lots of things about Auradon.’

‘And you’re the hostage, hostage.’ Harry smacks Ben’s hand as he lets it go. ‘So you’ll tell me something more. So you want to bring more villain kids to Auradon, but King Beast doesn’t like the idea. _Can_ you do it if he says no?’

Ben’s mouth pulls down. Sadly. Harry sighs.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Oh, no _way_ you’ve earned your question with that,’ Harry says. ‘Make an educated guess.’

‘Well.’ Ben puffs out his cheeks, making his fringe flutter. ‘I suppose it would come down to whatever the majority of the council supported.’

‘The council can order the king around?’

‘Yes; didn’t I just explain that?’

‘You did.’ Harry eyes Ben closely. ‘You’re not looking forward to trying to persuade them.’

‘Not after this. The idea of villain kids was almost _popular_ in Auradon a week ago, but this?’ Ben twitches his bound hands. ‘This is a public relations nightmare.’

‘Alright, you’ve made your opinion on getting kidnapped clear _more_ than enough times, your majesty,’ Harry says. He restrains himself from commenting that it’s turning into a public relations nightmare for Uma as well. ‘Let’s have your question.’

‘Are you and Uma…’ Ben starts, then trails off.

‘Captain and first mate, yes…?’ Harry prompts, sadistically.

‘Right. So in that case, how does Gil…?’

Harry raises his eyebrows. That’s not the question he was expecting.

It’s actually a more perceptive question than he was expecting.

Or half a question, anyway. He’s curious to hear the end of this sentence.

‘Yeah?’ he asks coaxingly.

‘How does Gil…’ Ben stops again.

‘Standing up in a hammock?’ Harry suggests.

He’d expected Ben to fluster. Instead he blurts,

‘So you know that, do you?’

‘…I was kidding,’ Harry says, after a very long pause. ‘My balance is good, but it’s not that good.’

‘I know,’ Ben says, sounding almost impatient as he brushes Harry’s jokes aside in pursuit of whatever he’s after. ‘So then, you and Gil…’

‘Gonna need some verbs here, princey.’

‘You’re…together?’

Harry takes pity. ‘Yes.’

‘Oh.’ Ben frowns slightly. ‘So, then, you and Uma are just…’

‘No _just_ about it.’

‘No, no, I can see that you mean the world to each other,’ Ben says, ‘but you’re not…not _in love_ , then?’

‘Absolutely not,’ Harry says sharply. Ben looks so astonished that he finds himself elaborating. ‘We _trust_ each other. We chose each other. We didn’t go crazy about each other like you heroes do.’

‘Oh. I see.’ Ben frowns as he chews that over. Finally he gives a little nod. ‘I know what you mean. It’s not always at first sight, you know. Sometimes it’s a lot more like what you said.’

‘Doubt it,’ Harry says. ‘Anyway, how would you know? Seems like it was all pretty at-first-sight for you.’

Ben’s face closes up. Harry wonders if alluding to Mal’s magic-fuelled courtship methods was a step too far. But none of his jabs so far have been _too far_. Ben seems to be a glutton for punishment. Sure enough, he composes himself and carries on with his questions.

‘So, you and Uma are…involved.’

‘We’re fucking, Benjamin.’

‘Alright.’ Ben _almost_ rolls his eyes. ‘So how does she feel about you… _seeing_ Gil?’

‘Hmm.’ Harry pretends to think hard. ‘I think mostly lustful?’

‘I see.’ Ben frowns. Harry can almost hear the cogs whirring inside that little brain. As if it was that difficult a concept. ‘So,’ he says slowly, ‘she doesn’t mind?’

Harry raises his eyebrows. ‘You really think I’d go behind my captain’s back?’

‘No,’ Ben says. ‘No, no; I can see that that’s absurd.’

‘It is,’ Harry agrees. ‘Why so curious?’

‘I’m just trying to understand,’ Ben says. ‘It wasn’t adding up for me, before.’

‘Huh. So all that stuff about _one_ true love…you Auradonians really mean it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Even at the top? No exceptions for princes?’

‘No,’ Ben says, voice coming out stiffer.

‘Alright, I was just asking.’ Harry tilts his head. ‘Because you did take in four _very_ pretty strays…’

‘Don’t,’ Ben says warningly.

‘Alright, alright,’ Harry says, ‘just one little princess for you, then. But what did she think of that? Because back in the day I always thought those four might have something going on…’

‘I never asked,’ Ben says quickly. ‘It didn’t occur to me.’

‘Oh,’ Harry smirks, ‘ _that_ is the face of a man who is just now realising what he could have asked – ’

‘Don’t,’ Ben says again. There’s something oddly compelling in that flat little syllable, so Harry shrugs and changes tack.

‘So you see,’ he says, ‘it’s not love.’

‘I do see,’ Ben says. ‘It seems rather like it, though.’

‘You don’t know what it’s like,’ Harry says.

‘No,’ Ben agrees. ‘I don’t.’

He stares at Harry. Long. Hard.

Wistfully.

‘Okay,’ Harry says loudly, shifting his seat. His legs are going numb. Whose dumb idea was it for him to come and sit on the floor anyway? ‘I’ve told you all sorts of things about my personal business. You owe me another Auradon question.’

‘You know you don’t need to bargain me into telling you about Auradon,’ Ben says. He blinks and shifts his gaze away from Harry’s face. About time. ‘I’ll answer any questions you have. If you’re going to live there one day you’ll need to know how things work.’

‘A map of the town and which fork to use first, maybe,’ Harry says. ‘Not state secrets.’

‘I’m sorry; are you trying to persuade me _not_ to tell you what you want to know?’

‘You’re so fucking helpless; I can’t help it. Besides, forcing it out of you is more fun.’

He raises his hook. Ben ducks his head and looks away, and this time he definitely blushes. Harry is starting to lean towards the idea that maybe they _do_ tie each other up for fun in Auradon.

‘Alright,’ Ben says. ‘Ask me whatever you like, and I’ll say nothing.’

‘Now that’s more like it,’ Harry says. ‘So, everybody knows how princes and princesses and true love’s kiss work, but what about that kingly magic that you were telling Gil about? How does that work?’

‘Mind your own business,’ Ben replies.

‘Oh, that is _precious_.’ Harry gets a nice firm grip on the rope around Ben’s wrists and pulls him forwards, towards his waiting hook. Ben struggles to keep his balance. His eyes dart from the hook to Harry’s face and back again.

‘Well,’ he says, ‘you already heard me tell Gil about my dad…when he was hurt…’

‘Mmm-hmm. So why are you telling me again?’

‘Um, I think it’s called stalling?’

‘Very good.’ Harry relaxes his hold on the rope, letting Ben settle himself at a more comfortable angle. ‘By the way, you know it’s _my_ job to hurt you, not yours, right? You don’t have to pick the most upsetting example you can think of.’

‘It doesn’t upset me to talk about my dad,’ Ben says quietly. ‘We were all fine in the end.’

‘Don’t know why I felt sorry for you for a second. Keep talking.’

‘He says that the Enchantress must have fixed him up at the same time as she was lifting the spell,’ Ben says.

‘If Enchantress spells are anything like fairy spells, they don’t tie up the loose ends for you all tidy-like,’ Harry says. ‘They tend to give exactly what was promised and no more, and if that leaves you to die two minutes after your curse is lifted then that’s your tough luck. And I seem to recall she wasn’t the biggest fan of your dad either, so I don’t know why she’d be doing him any extra favours.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ Ben says, ‘but dad disagrees. To his mind, we can’t prove that he healed himself, so there’s no sense in relying on it.’

‘Right,’ Harry says. ‘Y’know, if that’s the extent of Boreadon’s kingly magic I might actually stay on the Isle.’ Ben laughs. ‘What, haven’t you heard that one before? Boreadon?’

‘No, I sincerely haven’t,’ Ben says. A pause. ‘It’s accurate.’

‘Well, I’m glad you find us all so fucking entertaining,’ Harry says. ‘I expect it’s a nice change of pace for you, getting held at hook-point?’

‘I’ve been in council meetings that felt like a less sincere version of the same thing,’ Ben replied. ‘Holding you at hook-point, but politely.’

‘I’m polite!’ Harry says. Ben gives a snort of laughter.

‘You are,’ he agrees. His expression turns soft. ‘I know you wouldn’t use that thing on me unless you had a good reason.’

‘You give me a good reason every other minute, princey,’ Harry says.

‘If you were really such a loose cannon,’ Ben presses on, ‘Uma wouldn’t trust you so.’

‘Flattery will get you everywhere,’ Harry says lightly, as if Ben hasn’t just called his bluff, fully and completely. Oh well; he’s got more than one string to his bow. The hook seems to be working, if not at all as intended. ‘The captain does rely on me, it’s true. She relies on me to get rid of her enemies, mostly.’

‘Can I ask you something, Harry?’ Ben asks.

‘Ah-ah. Not when you still haven’t answered my last one.’ Harry taps the curve of his hook against Ben’s chest, just hard enough to make him lean away. ‘Magic. Are you going to actually tell me how it works, or am I going to have to hook it out of you?’

‘I told you all about my father,’ Ben says. ‘You want more?’

‘You told me that there’s nothing to tell about your father. Damn straight I want more.’

‘Um, there’s King Triton,’ Ben says. ‘He’s magical even without his trident. And Atlantica was the only state in Auradon not to start reducing magic usage under my father.’

‘Wise merman. I knew nobody who was related to Uma could be all good,’ Harry says. ‘But he’s not human.’

‘Queen Aurora,’ Ben suggests. ‘My – Audrey’s mother. When Prince Phillip came riding past her tower, the briars the fairies had set up to protect her opened to let him in. Of course, that could have been her, or him, or her parents, or fairy magic.’

‘You know, I’m starting to agree with your dad,’ Harry says. ‘Maybe this royal magic is just mumbo-jumbo that kings came up with to make themselves look good.’

‘I’d agree,’ Ben says, ‘if it wasn’t for Queen Elsa.’

‘Oh damn.’ Harry sits up straighter. ‘Wow, you really buried the lead with that one, didn’t you?’

‘And that’s why we don’t count on magic,’ Ben says. ‘ _Especially_ not royal magic, as far as it exists. Queen Elsa’s caused more harm than good.’

‘Um, hang on a minute. I always tried to tune out old Prince Hans when he got going, but didn’t that one’s magic only cause problems because she tried _not_ to use it?’

‘Dad never said we should try to hide and deny it,’ Ben says. ‘He only said we shouldn’t rely on it, and I agree. Like when Mal started to rely on her spell book to try and learn how to be a lady…’

‘Now hold up. If you’ve got something that’s yours, and it works, then why shouldn’t you rely on it? Might as well say you shouldn’t rely on your legs for walking.’ He pats Ben on the knee.

‘Magic doesn’t always work,’ Ben replies.

‘And neither do legs, when you reach the sea,’ Harry says.

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Ben says, ‘in a way.’

‘Implying that there’s another way in which I’m not right.’

‘Dad’s had a lot longer to think about it than I have.’

‘Hmm, true. He’s also had a lot longer to think about the Isle than you have, but you didn’t let that stop you.’

‘That was different,’ Ben says. ‘It couldn’t wait.’ Harry raises an eyebrow. ‘Alright, I know, clearly it could. I’m sorry. I don’t know. But I can’t just start ignoring his advice straight away.’

‘No you can’t,’ Harry agrees. He looks Ben up and down: a couple of surprises up his sleeve, to be sure, but only a couple. He’s going to stand by his father in the end, and Harry shouldn’t forget it. ‘Luckily he can’t ignore the captain, either. Not forever.’

‘Luckily,’ Ben agrees. ‘Can I ask you something now?’

‘Ah, you’ve been generous with your information.’ Harry lounges back against the wall and turns his hook in his hands, running his fingers along the curve to the tip and back again. ‘Ask away.’

‘Did Uma hurt you?’ Ben asks. He nods towards the mark on Harry’s neck.

It’s the last question Harry was expecting. His hand goes to his neck. A dead giveaway. He forces it back to his side again.

Anger spikes in his chest. _Did Uma hurt you?_ Not in the way Auradonians mean by _hurt_. And he finds that he can’t stand the idea of Ben looking at the bite and seeing just one villain knocking another about; seeing it as anything less than –

He looks at Ben. Who’s still looking at him. Who doesn’t look like he thinks it’s just one villain knocking another about; not at all.

‘I thought they taught you manners on Auradon,’ Harry grouses. ‘Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Ben says. He drops his gaze, then glances up through his lashes. Harry sighs. Why can’t he mind his own business?

Maybe because Uma’s told Harry to coax information out of him, and Harry’s damned good at his job.

‘You might have to stretch your idea of _hurt_ , your majesty,’ he says, ‘but yes. She did.’

‘Why?’ Ben asks.

‘Can’t you imagine?’ Harry returns, and _that_ gets Ben to stop staring. He looks away sharply. Harry takes back his earlier grumbling. He’s bringing this on himself.

He’s also bringing out a lot of information. Not to mention passing the time. It’s a small price to pay if he has to let the king stare at his neck and learn about masochism.

‘Let me teach you something about pain, princey,’ he says, gesturing with his hook. Ben looks back at him and visibly swallows.

‘Kisses are all well and good,’ Harry explains, ‘but they’re over quickly. So’re most nice things. It’s pain that stays with you.’ He lowers his hand with the hook and gives a studied shrug, so that the long lapel of his jacket falls over his throat, hiding the bite mark from view. ‘Never heard of a kiss leaving a mark you could carry with you, either.’

‘True love’s kiss,’ Ben says, hushed.

Harry barks a laugh. ‘Call it the Isle’s take on that, if you like. Except we don’t have it arse-backwards. Peck on the lips and suddenly you’re chained to someone. Uma gets to bite me because she’s my captain, not the other way round.’

‘She.’ Ben swallows again. ‘She did that by biting you?’

‘Sure; how else?’

‘I don’t know. What you said, that the trust comes first and then the – the bite. I think that’s how true love’s kiss is supposed to work too.’

‘Well, I’m not likely to find out, am I?’ Harry says. ‘Not as long as we’re all stuck here. Luckily the captain’s got a magic all her own.’

‘The captain doesn’t rely on magic,’ Ben says.

‘She doesn’t rely on anything, but she uses everything,’ Harry says.

‘Did it hurt?’ Ben asks. He’s staring, jacket or no jacket.

‘Little bit,’ Harry shrugs.

‘You really didn’t mind?’

 _Like you haven’t been trying to impale yourself on my hook all morning_ , Harry almost snaps. Instead, he adopts the most patronising tone he can, and says,

‘Ask your girlfriend once we’re out of this. I’m sure she’ll be happy to give you a nibble, if you’re so curious.’

‘She’s not my girlfriend any more,’ Ben says.

‘Oh, I keep forgetting,’ Harry lies. ‘Ask me, then.’

Ben swallows hard and opens his mouth.

‘Ask me later,’ Harry hastily amends. ‘I’m not supposed to damage you.’

‘Would it really count as damaging me if I asked for it?’ Ben says thoughtfully. Harry grits his teeth, because this isn’t how this conversation is supposed to go; enemies in general and Auradonians in particular are supposed to react to his suggestions with confusion or indignation, not fucking wide-eyed curiosity…

‘Who’re you damaging, Harry?’ a voice asks. It speaks so close by the open window that it might as well be in the room with them.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've got good news and bad news. The bad news is that I decided to break this fic into four chapters, so you get another cliffhanger today. The good news is that I'm jumping the gun and posting chapter three today. Enjoy! And do please leave me a comment; this fic has been eating my SOUL for the last five months and I want to know what people think!

Harry lunges forward. He tries to be quick and silent at once. He forces Ben flat onto the floor, out of sight of the window. Mercifully Ben goes with the push, staying quiet, but Harry thinks he’s made too much noise anyway. Sure enough, the voice speaks again.

‘Harry, I _heard_ your voice and I _heard_ someone answering. I know you’re in there.’

Harry makes his decision quickly. If it’s a choice between getting caught, and getting caught sprawled on the floor like a kid who sucks at hide and seek, he’ll take the former.

‘Stay put,’ he whispers to Ben, pulling him back upright. He gets to his feet and strides to the window, pushing the damaged shutter wide.

‘CJ,’ he calls. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’ He leans out into the street for a better look. There’s his sister, and she’s not alone. Better and better. ‘And you’ve brought Anthony too. How wonderful.’

‘What the hell are you doing lurking around here, Hook?’ Anthony Tremaine demands. Harry runs through his recent memories, trying to gauge where they stand. Bonny said she thought the Tremaines were in the wind. Not active enemies, at least. Harry’s not pushed little Dizzy around nearly as hard as he’s pushed some of the people Uma’s really at war with, and it’s not as if Anthony’s overly fond of his little sister anyway. It could be worse.

Could be a lot better too. The whole point of this was to not get caught.

‘I could ask you the same thing,’ he says. ‘Why are you lurking?’

‘Who’ve you got with you, Harry?’ CJ asks. She comes right up to the window, ducking to peer under Harry’s arm. Harry half-turns. It would serve him right if Ben’s taken this opportunity to abscond out the door. But no, there he is, hovering by the wall where Harry left him, very conspicuously tied up and helpless and guarded only by Harry.

‘Oh my gosh, is that _him_?’ CJ exclaims. ‘The king?’

‘It’s me,’ Ben confirms. He glances at Harry. ‘Who’s this?’

‘Sister,’ Harry mutters.

‘I didn’t know you had a sister,’ Ben says. He takes a step forward.

‘Read the room, princey,’ Harry snaps. ‘This isn’t a fucking garden party.’

‘Aw, Harry, don’t be like that,’ CJ objects. ‘You got to meet the king. I want to meet the king. So, why’s my brother got you shut up in this ruin, your majesty?’

Instead of blurting out the awful truth, Ben looks to Harry. That’s good, although not as good as him actually coming up with a convincing lie by himself. Harry sighs and catches the ball.

‘Change of scene,’ he says. ‘Fewer annoying visitors than on the ship. Or so I’d _hoped_.’

‘You know our dad asked me to come talk some sense into you?’ CJ asks. Harry scoffs.

‘So the old man’s finally accepted that he can’t talk sense himself?’

‘But you weren’t around when we went by your ship,’ Anthony cuts across him. ‘I thought you might just be lurking, but according to CJ you can never resist coming on deck for a ding-dong with the family.’

‘He came on deck to talk to Captain Hook yesterday even though Uma told him not to,’ Ben says.

‘Are you _serious_?’ Harry demands, rounding on him. ‘So did you!’

‘So you brought the hostage here to keep him away from your father?’ Anthony guesses.

‘And then you flirted so loudly we heard you through the window? CJ adds. ‘Classic Harry.’

‘You can see why Uma usually keeps him on a short leash,’ Anthony says.

‘Are you two just going to go back and forth, and if so, can I be excused?’ Harry asks. He makes to pull the shutter closed, but CJ puts her hand in the way.

‘We want to talk,’ she says. ‘To you, and him.’ She nods at Ben.

‘Of course,’ Ben says. Harry winces. At the same time, he sees Anthony take a half-step to the side, peering around the corner of the shack, towards the door. Instantly he spots the danger. The window is plenty wide enough for CJ to vault through. If Anthony comes through the door at the same time, they’ll have Harry surrounded. He decides in an instant.

‘Outside,’ he tells Ben, gesturing to the door. ‘Talk all you want, CJ; we’re coming out to meet you.’

‘How come?’ Ben whispers. He moves obediently towards the door.

‘You ever heard of rats in a trap?’ Harry mutters. He glances out of the window. CJ is watching them like a hawk, side-stepping to move round to the door of the lodge while keeping them in few.

‘Is this bad?’ Ben asks. Harry puts a hand on his shoulder to slow him down and slips ahead, so that he’ll be first through the door. As he passes Ben, he takes the opportunity to whisper in his ear.

‘Hook sent her. It’s bad.’

‘Untie my hands,’ Ben whispers, but suddenly Harry’s conveniently deaf. He draws himself up to his full height as he steps out of the lodge. He’s Harry Hook, first mate to Uma. He owns this alley. He’s untouchable.

CJ and Anthony round the corner of the lodge and move towards him. Harry takes stock of the situation. Ben’s behind him, and a dead end behind both of them; Harry doesn’t have to worry about him bolting. The alley is narrow enough that CJ and Anthony are going to struggle to come at him both at once, if it comes to a fight; though it’s tight quarters to swing a blade as well. Harry shifts his weight, feels his sword and side-arm swinging from his belt, right where they should be, out of sight beneath his coat. He can draw in an instant if he has to. And he's got his hook. One advantage of being known for carrying it everywhere: he can have a weapon in his hand while everybody else’s are still sheathed, and nobody will bat an eyelid. Just Harry being crazy about his hook.

He turns his eyes to the other two. CJ looks relaxed, but then he hopes he does too. That could mean anything. Anthony’s got his hand resting oh-so-casually on the hilt of his sword. Amateur.

CJ's here on their da's account, not on her own, and Anthony's here with her. That must mean the Tremaines have joined Hook's little crusade since Bonny got her information, which is even more bad news. But at least he can hope that CJ wants to keep it in the family. He decides to take a risk.

'Voices down, please. I'm sure you'd both rather this conversation stayed between us.'

'Definitely,' CJ agrees. She glances around the alley. There's nobody about. The threat of Gaston's anger keeps _most_ people out, but Hook and Gaston are in cahoots now. 'Let's all just talk calm and reasonable. And quiet.'

'So,' Harry asks, 'what does the old man want?'

His mind is racing. CJ and Anthony don't seem to be spoiling for a fight, but they know where he and Ben are hiding now. Even if Harry can get them to leave, they'll be back with the big guns. Where can he take Ben? Probably give up the whole game and back to the _Revenge,_ if they can get there unmolested…

'You know,' CJ says, talking past Harry to Ben, 'no matter what else, I'm glad I've met you just to say I've met you. Really never thought anyone on Auradon was going to look our way until you started that program.'

'I really wish I'd had the chance to meet more of your people too,' Ben replies. 'I told your father so yesterday.'

Harry takes a side step to keep both Ben and CJ in view. Anthony is still hovering behind CJ, watching them all closely. Harry's never tussled with him before; the Tremaines have always preferred to keep shop than fight. He’s got no idea what kind of opponent he might be. He doesn't like this one bit.

'Things got a little intense yesterday, I heard,' CJ says. 'I'm sorry about that. Gaston, he's not always the friendliest.'

'Neither's our da,' Harry interrupts.

'Neither's your Uma,' CJ shoots back. She returns her gaze to Ben. 'Anyway, I'm just here to tell you that Captain Hook's invitation to come and parlay with him still stands. Are you sure you don't want to come and speak with him? Seems like Uma may not have given you much say in the matter.'

'She did invite me onto her ship quite forcefully,' Ben says. He glances at Harry. Harry wishes he'd kidnapped him harder. 'But I notice your invitation seems to involve swords as well.'

'Precaution of the Isle,' CJ says. 'Couldn't escort you safely otherwise. No harm meant, I promise. So what do you say? You coming?'

Harry stays relaxed. He doesn't need to clutch at his sword like Anthony to make a point. But he stays between Ben and CJ, blocking Ben's path up the alley. Ben knows he's going nowhere, and if he's got two brain cells to rub together he won't want to anyway. _Invited_ to see Hook. It's not even a good trap.

'Not today, I think,' Ben says.

'You sure?' CJ asks, jerking her head at Harry like he's the annoying friend who won't let the gang leave.

'I'm quite sure, thank you,' Ben says. .

'Really?' CJ asks, her voice turning to a sympathetic coo. 'You want to stay with the people who _kidnapped_ you?'

 _Please tell me that's not what I sound like when I'm playing cat and mouse,_ Harry thinks.

'I'm really here of my own volition now,' Ben says. 'I'm here to negotiate.'

'You mean that?' CJ asks. Ben has to be aware of all the lies and threat in her offer, but he doesn't let his face show it. Eyes sincere, he nods. 'Oh, you're adorable,' CJ says. 'Harry, is he always this adorable?'

'Regrettably, yes,' Harry says. 'Well, you heard him. He's happy with his lodgings, so move along.'

'But we're not happy, though,' CJ says. ‘Let’s see…oh, a full week Uma's had the _king himself_ prisoner, and what have you got to show for it?’

‘You know what I’d do if it were me?’ Anthony says suddenly. ‘Send Belle and Beast a finger a day and see how long it takes them to agree to whatever we want.’

‘Aye, and I’m sure it’d be real pleasant living in Auradon in the aftermath of that,’ Harry says. So that's Anthony's stance. Harry reorients himself to give him a little more attention, and hears the sound of Ben's feet shifting as he takes a step back. It's been a while since Harry said something that graphic right to his face.

‘Oh, is that the plan?’ Anthony sneers. ‘Live in Auradon under the king’s rule, like Mal and her traitors? We’re _villains_!’ He shouts suddenly. ‘You know what we could have had by now, for all your negotiations? We could have had _revenge_! Show them what they get for locking us all away in here! And what have you shown them instead? That we can’t even do for one little prince when he wanders right into the middle of us.’

'Keep your voice down,' CJ says. 'You want the whole Isle on this?'

‘You’re sounding like our old dad, if you don’t mind my saying so,’ Harry tells Anthony. ‘All he cared about was revenge, and that landed him here. Uma’s going to get us out of here.’

‘So she tells you,’ CJ says. She looks him right in the eyes. ‘Harry, hand him over and come home.’

'The _Roger's_ no home of mine; get that through your head,' Harry says.

Anthony goes for his sword, but Harry's faster. He's got his own blade up and ready in the time it takes Anthony to fumble his out of its sheath. Whatever move he was planning, he pulls it up when he sees how fast Harry is. Harry grins. If Anthony's picking a new crew, he's about to find out he picked wrong.

'Calm down!' CJ snaps over her shoulder at Anthony, but she's reluctant to turn her back on Harry now he's got his sword out.

'What for? You think he's persuadable?' Anthony asks.

'I'm definitely not,' Harry says.

'So let's stop wasting time,’ Anthony snaps. ‘I'll say this slowly for you, Hook. It's two against one. Hand over the king, or else.'

'Over my dead body,' Harry spits.

'Harry, untie me,' Ben says again, urgently. 'Give me a sword.'

'Because the only thing better than two on one is three on one,' Harry says. 'Be quiet.'

It's not good odds, and Ben's a liability. If he’s going to win, he'll have to finish this quickly. He shifts his weight, considering a fast lunge at Anthony, but CJ's in the way…

'Really?' CJ asks, like she can guess his thoughts. 'You're going to stab your own sister? Don't be dramatic. Hand over the king and you can walk away.'

'I run with Uma's crew now,' Harry says, 'and I'll stab anyone who gets in her way.'

'Mutineer,' CJ taunts. Suddenly she moves, jerking her sword from her hip and straight out to its full extent. Harry's inside her reach. He sways backwards, and the tip of the sword sweeps in front of his belly. Harry finds his balance and brings his own sword defensively across his body. CJ smirks at him. Behind her, Anthony has tensed to help her press her attack, but CJ's still playing, just a little.

'Come with us, king, and I won't cut him up in front of you,' she calls.

'Ben, stay back,' Harry says.

'Give me a sword!' Ben calls, and that's when CJ attacks for real.

She swings at Harry in a three-stroke pattern, lightning-fast. Harry parries, then answers with a riposte, jabbing his sword inside her guard. CJ brings her sword up and disengages, stepping smartly away. For a moment it's like the fight hasn’t started. They’re static again, sizing each other up.

This time Harry moves first. He slashes at CJ's shoulder, so fast she barely catches the blade in time. The clash of metal is painfully loud, and Harry wonders again who's in earshot. Every second they're out here is dangerous.

Anthony's poised with his sword up, waiting for his chance to take a crack at Harry, but Harry's got one thing right. The alley's narrow. They can only come at him one at a time, and he's got his body between them and Ben – and between Ben and escape. Harry presses CJ hard. He's got to finish this. If only they'd swap places, he'd gladly put a sword through Anthony, but he can't get at Anthony any more than Anthony can get at him –

'I'm coming for you, King Ben,' Anthony taunts. CJ laughs. _Damn it,_ Harry thinks, _why hold back? She swung first. Just let her give me an opening and I'll have her –_

CJ feints left, swings right and gets under his guard. Harry backs up. She forced him to his left, so that the alley wall is scraping his elbow, and Anthony takes the opening and darts past him, straight for Ben.

Harry curses. He kicks out and catches CJs shin. She stumbles with a yelp. Harry goes low, swinging his hook in a raking motion towards the inside of her thigh. She jerks back further, and Harry whirls towards Anthony and Ben.

Anthony has his sword out to the side, positioned not to cut but to threaten. He reaches out with his off hand and grabs hold of Ben. Ben ducks away, then lashes out with his fist. Harry's jaw drops. It's a solid punch. He catches Anthony unawares, driving into his abdomen. Anthony stumbles, winded, and next moment Harry is on him with a flurry of blows that force him back away from Ben.

' _How did you get your hands free?'_ Harry shouts.

'Jay taught me!' Ben raises his unbound hands. He looks genuinely _sorry._

'You –' Harry starts, but Anthony is lunging at them again. He's got his sword up and swinging at Ben. That's not how you retrieve a hostage. That's how you get someone injured or killed. Harry throws out his left arm, forcing Ben behind him, and deflects the next stroke that comes at them. CJ has recovered and is stalking towards them. Harry presses his shoulder into Ben's and backs them both up further. They're running out of room, pinned against the dead end of the street. If it weren’t for the narrowness of the alley CJ and Anthony would be flanking them by now.

‘ _Give me a sword!_ ’ Ben shouts again. Harry gives a growl of frustration and jabs his hook through the carabiner on his belt, freeing his left hand. He jerks his coat to the side, exposing the hilt of his side-arm, and half-turns towards Ben. Ben yanks the short-sword from its scabbard and brings it round just in time to meet CJ.

Their swords meet with a clash of metal on metal. Just that one stroke is enough for Harry to ascertain that Ben knows what he’s doing with the blade. He forces his attention back onto Anthony. Is Ben going to turn that sword on Harry? Doesn’t matter. Is he going to go down to CJ in the next few strokes? Doesn’t matter. If Harry tries to monitor their fight and his, he’s going to get himself killed. He puts his back to Ben and swings at Anthony with all the force he can muster.

Anthony gives a yelp as Harry’s blade misses him by a hair. _Don’t like me so much one on one, do you_? Harry thinks savagely, and presses home the advantage. He’d almost had him that time. _Just give me one more opening like that_ …

He grabs the hook back off his belt, holding it by the metal, and jabs forward. People always find it funny until it’s swinging at their faces. The motion is different to a sword or a dagger. Anthony doesn’t know how to block it. The hook rips the fabric of his left sleeve, scores a line on his forearm and comes away bloody. Anthony yells. CJ’s and Ben’s feet are beating out a rhythm behind Harry. He brings his sword around for a follow-up strike. If Ben can just keep doing whatever he’s doing to CJ long enough for Harry to get done, if they can just finish this before the clash of swords brings the whole Isle running –

Ben gasps. Harry can’t tell if it’s just a grunt of exertion or if CJ’s got him. He half-turns. If Ben’s down, then CJ will be on Harry in a moment. And in the instant he’s distracted, Anthony lunges and jabs him under the arm.

Ben’s not down. He’s fine. Over his shoulder, CJ sees Anthony’s strike land, and her eyes widen in shock.

Anthony looks as surprised as anyone to have landed a hit. He jerks back out of range. Sloppy. Harry could have ended the fight in an opening like that.

The world’s gone slow and strange, the way it always does at moments of danger. He’s too high-strung to tell if Anthony’s even cut him, or if his leathers caught it. There’s no pain.

‘ _Harry!_ ’ CJ screams. There’s a thud, and she cries out. Ben’s taking advantage of her distraction. He’s forcing her back.

Harry goes to attack Anthony again, and finds that his right arm won’t obey him.

Anthony’s staring at him. _Spooked by his own handiwork_. But he rallies himself and takes another swipe at Harry. Harry dodges, and _there_ comes the pain, sudden and bright between his ribs. All the strength has gone out of his sword arm. He’s got no idea how badly he’s hurt. But he drops his hook and tosses his sword from his right hand to his left. Anthony looks alarmed to see him swap so quickly. Harry’s face tries to make a grimace, but he turns it into a grin instead.

‘Thought you’d got me?’ he hisses, and swings with all the strength in his left arm. He goes for ferocity rather than finesse, and it works. Anthony reels backwards. At the same time Harry hears CJ cry out again. Ben’s knocked the sword clean out of her hand.

‘ _Yes_ , princey!’ Harry shouts. CJ retreats, falling in beside Anthony, who’s got blood staining the torn sleeve of his shirt where Harry hooked him. Harry snarls and rushes them.

‘Anthony, back up, go!’ CJ shouts. She and Anthony turn tail and sprint down the alley, and there’s absolutely nothing Harry can do to stop them from getting clean away and coming back with half the Isle on their heels, but to hell with it, they’ve won this round, he’ll take it.

CJ and Anthony disappear around the corner, and Harry’s charge turns into more of a stumble. He fetches up against the wall, bracing his forearm to take his weight. The impact travels into his side and he fights back a gasp. Oh, he’s hurt for sure.

‘Harry!’ Ben calls.

‘Stay put!’ Harry pushes off the wall and turns to point his sword at Ben. Ben’s making towards him, but stops short. He’s holding Harry’s short-sword out in front of him, and Harry’s eyes lock on to the weapon. Ben looks at it too, like he’s surprised to find it still in his hand.

The reach of Harry’s sword is much longer than Ben’s, but Ben knows what he’s doing. He disarmed CJ. And when Harry draws breath it feels like Anthony’s sword is still lodged beneath his lower right rib.

‘Drop that!’ he orders. ‘Drop it!’

Ben hesitates, and Harry curses both of them in his head with every foul word he can think of. Ben could go for him right now, and it would serve him right for trusting him for a single second, and for getting himself stabbed when Uma’s given him _one fucking job_. But then Ben bends down and sets the short-sword carefully in the dust.

‘Did he get you?’ he asks. His eyes are big as saucers. Harry supposes your first sword-fight would do that to you.

‘Slashed my favourite jacket,’ he answers.

‘Are you hurt?’ Ben takes another step forward.

‘Nicked me,’ Harry admits. He can hear the tension in his own voice. He puts his hand to the slit in his jacket, and the hand shakes. Ben stares. There’s no way he misses it.

‘Let me see,’ he says, taking a step forward.

‘Stay put!’ Harry says again, warding Ben off with his sword. ‘Sorry, I wasn’t aware you were a fucking surgeon. Give me some space; I’m a wee bit on edge right now.’

Ben hovers beyond the end of Harry’s sword. Harry looks down at himself, and as soon as he lowers his head the ground starts to play a trick on him, swimming nearer and further and nearer again. His head’s spinning, and nausea suddenly curls in his stomach. He takes an unsteady step to the side and gets his shoulder against the wall.

‘Harry!’ Ben says in alarm.

‘Shaken up,’ Harry says. ‘Fight’ll do that to you. You look like you could use a lie-down yourself.’ He tweaks his jacket to the side, awkwardly with his unsteady right hand. With his left he keeps his sword ready, though it’s starting to weigh heavier and heavier. He looks down again. There’s a circle of blood soaked into the greyish fabric of his shirt.

‘Oh, oh gosh.’ Ben puts a hand to his mouth.

‘Never seen a stab wound before?’ Harry asks. ‘Don’t worry; first time’s the hardest. Deep breaths. Here we go.’

He tugs his shirt up.

The cut is a clean-edged, diagonal line, a little wider than the width of Anthony’s sword, just under his ribcage. There’s blood smeared across his belly, and more oozing from the cut, but it’s not coming fast.

‘Well,’ Ben says in a thin voice, ‘it’s not bleeding too badly?’

‘My lucky day,’ Harry says. He slumps to the ground and puts his head between his knees.

‘Harry!’ Ben says yet again. He drops to his knees as well.

‘God, can’t a man catch his breath without you panicking?’ Harry groans. He raises his head as Ben reaches for him. _‘Don’t_ touch me!’

‘You could have internal bleeding,’ Ben says. ‘You need pressure on.’

‘Don’t tell me what I _fucking_ need!’ Harry snarls. He wants to put a fist right between those wide eyes. Of course King Ben wants to help the villain kid who’s bleeding right in front of him, but what does he know about all the back-alley scrapes Harry could have got knifed in while he was safe and comfortable in Auradon? It was Uma who kept Harry alive all those years; Uma and Gil. He wants to keep bleeding just to make a point.

Uma. What would she say if she knew he’d got himself stabbed and was being a diva about first aid into the bargain? Doesn’t bear thinking about. Harry heaves a sigh, which sets his side throbbing again, and jerks his chin at Ben.

‘Alright, Christ, come on then. Do your worst.’

Ben shuffles closer like he thinks Harry might bite. Harry probably will if he keeps dithering like that. He fumbles in the pocket of his royal blue jacket and pulls out a large white handkerchief.

‘Is that shit _monogrammed_?’ Harry asks faintly.

‘Yes,’ Ben says. He lays the handkerchief over Harry’s wound and presses down firmly, one hand on top of the other.

Harry gives a grunt of pain as the pressure goes on. He brings his left hand to his mouth to muffle the sound, losing the hilt of his sword in the process.

‘Sorry,’ Ben says.

‘S’fine,’ Harry gets out. He moves his lips as little as possible, trying to keep his voice steady. He scans up and down the street, bending his head to try and see around Ben. He’s lost track of time. How long have they been sitting out here in the open since he saw off CJ and Anthony?

‘Gotta move undercover,’ he says. ‘Anybody walks by and sees us, we’re fish bait.’

‘I know. Just a moment.’ Ben’s fussing with the handkerchief.

Harry reaches for his sword, but it slipped down out of his reach when he dropped it. Ben’s pressing into his chest, keeping him from reaching forward, and he’s leaning across Harry’s right arm as well; not that that one’s much good when raising it makes him feel like he’s getting stabbed all over again –

Harry breathes in. It aches deep down in his chest. He’s got a spare knife under his jacket, but he can’t get to it with Ben in the way of his arm. Ben could probably draw it easier than he could right now, if he knew it was there. Which he doesn’t, and besides he dropped the sword when Harry told him to, he’s helping, it’s _fine_ , but that doesn’t change the fact that Harry can’t get to a weapon right now. And he doesn’t know where he dropped his damned hook.

‘Alright,’ he says, pushing away from the wall. Ben relaxes his hands enough to let him sit up; Ben wasn’t really pinning him down; it’s _fine_. ‘Under cover. Now.’

‘Yes, of course. Let me help you up – ’

‘Would you calm down?’ He waves Ben away with his right arm. He can move it, really, now that the shock’s worn off. It only aches a little. ‘Let go, I’ve got it.’ He works his right hand under Ben’s on the handkerchief. Ben takes his hands away reluctantly. Harry presses his left hand to the wall and rises cautiously. The street stays where it should. He hardly wobbles. Nothing to worry about.

He walks towards the lodge. Ben shadows him, hands out like he’s expecting Harry to swoon any moment. Harry takes stock as he moves. The world feels a little unreal, but shock’ll do that to a person. Not too much blood…Ben talked about _internal bleeding_ , but he can’t worry about what he can’t see. He’ll keep pressure on, and that’s that. He’s short of breath – now that he’s moving even a little, he’s definitely short of breath – but he’s breathing. Hardly a stab worth talking about. And even better, there’s his hook, practically at his feet.

He goes to bend down, and his vision greys out.

‘Benjamin?’ he says.

‘Harry?’ Ben’s hand lands on his arm. Harry flinches.

‘Would you be a dear and grab my hook?’ he asks.

‘Of course.’ Ben bobs down and grabs the hook, and _fuck_ , now he’s armed again.

‘I’ll take _that_ ,’ Harry says, tugging the hook out of his grip. His stomach churns. He takes two shaky steps, grabs hold of the doorframe and more tumbles than walks into the lodge. He drops to the floor and gets his head down again. He’s far more breathless than a short walk should have left him.

‘Are you hurting?’ Ben asks.

‘What? Nah, where I come from we call this a love tap.’

‘Oh, right,’ Ben says. Harry wonders if he actually believes him. ‘Hey, um, thank you for. You know. Trusting me with the sword.’

‘Tuh.’ Harry scoffs. ‘Like I couldn’t take you.’ He pulls in a breath. It hurts sharply, but his head clears a little. ‘You weren’t bad. That was a neat rope trick.’

‘Oh.’ Ben looks flustered to have been caught doing anything remotely naughty. ‘It was just a lot of wiggling, really.’

‘Shouldn’t have taken my eyes off you for a second. So, what else did dear old Jay teach you?’

‘How to pick pockets,’ Ben says. ‘I picked his.’

‘No way!’ Harry exclaims. ‘Aww, Benny, I’m proud of you.’

‘He wasn’t expecting it. They were trying to teach me to blend in. I wasn’t very good at that…well, you know.’

‘Christ, do you _ever_ cheer up?’ Harry demands. ‘You don’t have to take everything so seriously.’

‘Cheer up? You’re _stabbed_!’ Ben says.

‘Don’t remind me.’ Harry coughs. ‘If you’re so worried, go fetch the swords in. And try to hide the marks where we tore up the dirt.’

‘Alright,’ Ben says, and darts back out the door. Bad plan; Harry’s on edge the instant he can’t see him.

 _He’s had his chance to run_ , he tells himself. _He doesn’t want to wander off and get caught by himself; not after that_.

He takes advantage of the privacy to have another look. He pries the handkerchief carefully away from his side – it’s already starting to stick as the blood clots; really, this is nothing. He takes a couple of experimental breaths, deep into the bottom of his lungs, and tells himself it’s just the damaged muscle beneath his rib that’s hurting. There’s a very faint wheeze on his breath, but what can he do about that?

Footsteps at the door, and there’s Ben, his arms full of weapons.

‘Fancy seeing you back again,’ Harry says. ‘Put them down.’ Ben complies, kneeling down beside Harry and setting the two swords down between them.

‘What now?’ he asks.

Isn’t that the question? Injury assessed, weapons recovered; it’s time to move on to the next thing. Harry blinks and tries to focus. He’s annoyed with himself. It’s already been whole minutes since the fight. CJ and Anthony could be back on them any second. And there’s Ben, who’s still clearly shocked and scared at being in his first ever street fight, but who’s just shown himself to be far better than Harry would like with a blade. Surely he’s going to start getting ideas sooner rather than later. Harry needs to be one step ahead, and instead he’s lying around dazed like he’s never had a sword nick before.

‘What now?’ he echoes. ‘Now we need to move.’

‘You want to move? When you’re hurt?’ Ben objects.

‘Do you want to sit here and wait for CJ to come back and fight you two on one?’ Harry asks. ‘Because I think I might need to sit out the next round.’ He makes to stand, and a wave of nausea hits him. His vision darkens.

‘Harry, are you okay?’ Ben asks.

‘Ask me that _one more time –_ ’ Harry starts, then cuts himself off. ‘Sat up too fast.’

‘Where do we go?’ Ben asks. He’s eying Harry dubiously, like he doesn’t believe that Harry is _fine._

Harry thinks. The chip shop is out. They’ve just burned Gaston’s territory. CJ’s and Harriet’s places are out. They could go back to the _Revenge_ , but Uma thought it would be dangerous there, and Uma generally knows best. The fact is that the crew only has limited resources, and this drawn-out parlay with an actual king has eaten them all.

‘Ugh, I don’t know, why are you asking me when I’m _stabbed_?’ he whines.

‘Do you want me to be worried or not?’ Ben asks.

‘I want to _not be injured_!’ Harry snarls. ‘I want – ’ So many thinks he wants _not to be_ , and all of them, ultimately, Ben’s fault. ‘You know what, you keep saying you want to help. Why don’t _you_ decide where we should go?’

‘I don’t know the Isle,’ Ben says quietly.

‘You’re supposed to be king of it,’ Harry retorts.

He was only taunting, but Ben furrows his brow and thinks, thinks like he can just magic up the knowledge he should have out of nowhere.

‘Why don’t we just stay here?’ he says at last. ‘They’ll be expecting us to move somewhere else after they found us once. They’ll probably come back and check, but if we hide ourselves and stay still and quiet then maybe they won’t look too hard.’

‘So sit and do nothing?’ Harry says. ‘Yeah, that sounds like you.’

Ben flinches. He’s so easy to hurt that Harry almost feels bad about it.

‘We could try Dizzy’s,’ he suggests weakly. ‘Reckon I could frighten her into putting us up.’

‘That’s near Mal’s place, isn’t it?’ Ben asks. ‘The other side of the Isle? I don’t know if we’d make it in daylight.’

‘Near Mal’s place?’ Harry lies for form’s sake. ‘Nope, totally turned around, don’t know where you got that from. I guess it is far though. Silly idea. Skulking it is.’ He swallows and grimaces. ‘Ugh, how is there blood in my _mouth_?’

‘Show me,’ Ben says. He reaches for Harry’s chin. Harry flinches, but Ben holds him steady and gently squeezes his mouth open. ‘There’s blood on your teeth,’ he says in a brittle voice. ‘If it’s coming up from your throat, that might mean you’ve punctured a lung.’

‘There’s that royal education,’ Harry says. ‘It would explain the _stabbing pain_ when I breathe.’

‘We definitely shouldn’t run across the Isle then,’ Ben says.

‘You’re the boss, I guess,’ Harry says bitterly.

‘I’m the king,’ Ben says. ‘I’m going to make us a hiding place.’ He kicks hard at the rotting floorboards and pulls up two or three. That’s far more thigh strength than somebody so tiny-looking should have. ‘We can climb in under the floor and move the boards on top of us,’ he says. ‘That way if your sister and the other boy come back, they won’t be able to see us, and hopefully they won’t look too closely.’

‘That sounds like a good plan,’ Harry says. ‘My sister _is_ an idiot. Are there earwigs under there? I’m going to lose it if there’s earwigs.’

‘No earwigs,’ Ben says. ‘Get in.’ 

Harry gets to his feet, and then lurches across the room and basically topples down into Ben’s arms as Ben stands in the hole in the floor, and the impact sends his vision _white_ with pain.

When he can think again he’s on his back in the hole, and Ben is putting the boards back into place on top of him. Under him is bare earth, muddy and damp. There are _definitely_ earwigs. He’d thought the streets of the Isle were chilly, but just a few feet down it’s colder: cold earth that’s never been dry or felt the sun.

 _This is my grave_ , his mind says, unbidden.

‘ _How_ long are we hiding down here again?’ he asks. Buried people don’t speak, but he can still speak just fine.

‘I don’t know; until your sister checks back and goes or until we decide we’ve waited her out, I guess.’

‘Right. I’ll try to ration my bleeding so I’ve still got some left at the end of that.’

‘Are you still bleeding?’ Ben asks in alarm.

‘Mouth full of the stuff, remember?’ he says. ‘I’m _cold_.’

‘I’m coming.’ Ben jumps into the hole and wriggles down on his side, contorting his body oddly to avoid jostling Harry as he does so. His heat glows out into the frigid air; the space feels just a little less like a grave. He lowers the last board in over their heads. ‘Let me help you put pressure on that.’

‘Is that going to help?’ Harry asks.

‘Can it hurt?’ Ben asks. He works his hands up in front of him and presses them one over the other to Harry’s chest, clamping the handkerchief tightly in place.

‘ _Yes_ ,’ Harry grits out. ‘Yes it can.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Ben says. ‘It’s all I know how to do.’

‘Disappointing,’ Harry says weakly. ‘I’d expected full-blown surgery.’ He takes a breath. The pressure hurt going on, but he finds he can actually breathe a little easier with Ben’s hands to brace against. ‘Damnation, it’s cold down here.’

‘You’re in shock,’ Ben says.

‘Either you know medicine or you don’t, princey; make up your mind. I’m in a bloody freezing hole in the ground.’

‘I’m sorry. Uh, let me get closer. If you turn over – ’

‘Are you asking to be _big spoon_?’

‘I don’t even know what that means,’ Ben says.

‘And you won’t find out. I can’t educate you if we’re supposed to be hiding.’

‘You’re right.’ Ben redoubles the pressure on Harry’s chest, as well as he can with the awkward angle and lack of space, and goes quiet.

Harry tries to breathe steadily, to keep from shivering, to ignore the ache that’s wringing him out like a dishcloth, and thinks of Uma, of Gil. When’s the last time the three of them lay close together like this, with nothing to worry about but skirmishes with their rivals and where their next meal was coming from? They’ve barely even had to worry about that since Uma got a proper hold on her territory and started enforcing her mother’s monopoly on fishing and scavenging all the potatoes and eggs… And now they have to worry about everything. It should be Uma looking him over, Gil stitching him up after a fight. This is all wrong. Everything, ever since Ben came here, has been all wrong.

There’s a rough whistling note to his breath, very faint, but still stronger than when he first noticed it. He coughs to clear it, and the ache in his side sharpens to pain for a moment. He tastes metal in the back of his throat. Ben’s eyes flicker in the half-light, and Harry knows he’s seen. He swallows and looks away.

He hears a sound up above, so faint that it could be his imagination. But then it comes again, and he feels Ben twitch, knows that he’s heard it too. A pang of nerves goes through him.

 _Relax_ , he tells himself. _You knew they’d be back. This was the plan._

Ben’s eyes are huge and anxious. Harry meets them and puts a finger to his lips. He quiets his own breathing, breathing shallower until the faint wheeze stops.

A creak of hinges, then boots on wood. Someone is stepping into the lodge.

‘So you decided to take a stroll through my territory, did you, Master Tremaine?’ a deep voice says.

Harry lets his eyes fall shut in dismay. For the love of all that’s holy, they’ve brought fucking _Gaston_.

‘We thought since our parents are all working together, you wouldn’t mind,’ Anthony replies. His words tumble over each other. He doesn’t sound nearly as brave as he did when he was yelling at Harry in the alley.

‘Not like you’re using the place for much, anyway,’ CJ adds. Her voice is brusquer than Anthony’s, less fawning. Harry’s not so fed up with his family that he can’t feel pleased at that.

‘True,’ Gaston says. He’s making no effort to be quiet. ‘But to leave me out of a hunt, well! That’s hard. So you surprised young Hook and the king in the alley, did you?’

‘That’s right,’ Anthony says.

‘Don’t seem to have stuck around though, do they? Can’t say I blame them.’ Gaston laughs. ‘I wouldn’t stay long in this hole if it were me. I wonder how they made you two turn tail. You’re not telling me Beast’s whelp has a bit of fight in him, are you?’

‘He does,’ CJ says tersely.

‘This is why you don’t go in short-handed,’ Gaston says. Harry can imagine how CJ is bristling at that.

‘Are you going to help us track them down, then?’ she asks, her voice full of bite.

‘Happy to,’ Gaston replies. ‘They can’t be far.’ The floor creaks. Harry imagines him turning on his heels, scanning for clues. Will he notice the cracks in the floorboards? Will he know that they’re new? ‘Tremaine,’ he says, ignoring CJ, ‘you’ve never had a chance to tackle really big game, have you, son?’

‘No, sir,’ Anthony replies.

‘No livestock in this township of ours, and no hunting. Lord, how I miss hunting!’

‘I’ve hunted rats,’ Anthony says.

Gaston guffaws. ‘Rats! That’s what it’s come to, hasn’t it? Enterprising lad. But they hardly count. A man can kill a rat with his bare hands. Well, a man can kill bigger animals with his bare hands too, but that takes a little more practise. How’d you like some practise, son?’

‘He needs some practise with a sword, never mind his bare hands,’ CJ says sourly. ‘Flailing about, cutting people on accident. When did I tell you you could stab my brother, huh?’

‘Now your rabbit,’ Gaston says, talking straight across her. ‘I don’t suppose you children have ever seen a rabbit. Rabbit’s said to be a silent animal, but in a snare a rabbit’ll scream just you or me.’

‘The dust’s all kicked up on the floor here,’ CJ says. Harry hears the board creak right over their head as she kneels down. ‘Looks like they were having a barn dance.’

‘Now if you look at the marks in the dust,’ Gaston says like it’s just occurred to him, ‘you might get a hint of the way they went.’ Harry’s chest feels cinched tight as a tangle of rope. ‘Oh, this takes me back. Now, snaring a rabbit’s hunting of a sort, but it’s still an easy kill. It’s your, ah, your man-sized animals, your boar and deer, where you need to bring a little technique to bear. Your pig in particular, it’s important that your pig in particular bleed all the way out before it’s good eating, and that’s a matter of several minutes. Dreadful squealing if you don’t slash the windpipe in the same stroke as the jugular.’

Ben’s eyes are huge, throwing back a faint gleam of light as he and Harry huddle together. Harry wills him to stay quiet. He wills Gaston to _shut up_. Ben’s going to think they’re _monsters_.

‘Sounds bad,’ Anthony says, ‘but, well, I’m never likely to need to know, am I?’ His voice sounds a little thin.

‘All the same, I’d be amiss if I didn’t tell you anything a man might need to know,’ Gaston says. ‘Never let it be said that I’m not a good role model.’

‘Keep going; I’d like to know how to shut up a pig’s dreadful squealing,’ CJ mutters.

‘But that’s still just butchery.’ Gaston’s voice is suddenly louder, harder. He’s so easy to taunt; it would be funny if all that anger wasn’t going to come down on Ben and him. ‘When you’re hunting your wild deer, the trick is to get an arrow into it, or a knife, in the haunch or the lung, some place where it can’t run. Then it won’t be going anywhere while you decide how best to finish the job. No need to hurry the decision either. Fear tenderises meat.’

‘Gross,’ CJ says. There’s a pause. ‘What, do you think I don’t know that you’re talking about hunting the king?’

‘We’ll see what King Beast thinks of his great victory after I’ve bled his son white like the pig he is,’ Gaston says. ‘What about the other one? Reckon your pig of a brother’ll be all done bleeding by the time I catch up to him, girlie?’

‘You fuck off!’ CJ shouts suddenly. ‘Fuck off, you’re ruining everything, none of us asked you to touch this!’ There’s the dull thud of a fist on flesh, and then a crash and CJ’s shriek. It sounds like Gaston’s thrown her and she’s taken the chair down with her.

‘You’re in _my house_!’ Gaston’s voice fills the shack like thunder and lightning. Harry grits his teeth and screws his eyes shut. Ben’s got his arm flung over them both, pressing down, and it’s probably for the best, because stab wound or no stab wound, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do if this doesn’t _end_.

‘We’re wasting our time here,’ Anthony breaks in. ‘They’re clearly gone, they’ve got a head start, let’s get after them!’ He sounds near tears.

‘Right!’ Gaston says. He gives a horrible, mirthless laugh. ‘Lead on then, squire!’

He hears their boots, Gaston’s thudding, Anthony’s scurrying in his wake. The footsteps clatter across the wooden floor, hit the dully crunching earth of the street, and then fade. CJ stays crouched where Gaston knocked her down. Her rough breathing is inches away from Harry’s ear, separated only by the loose floorboards.

Ben is staring at Harry. Harry wonders whether he’s started dribbling blood or something, to make him look so scared. Or is Gaston just that terrifying? Now that Harry thinks of it, he’s a little terrified himself.

He twitches his fingers against Ben’s forearm. _Keep still_. He wonders how long CJ’s going to hang around. It’s not like her to fly off the handle so quickly around someone as dangerous as Gaston, or to cry when she’s knocked down, or to stay down as long as this –

‘Harry.’ Low. Anxious. Inches away from Harry’s ear.

 _Shit,_ Harry thinks. _Shit, shit, shit –_

Before he can do more than panic, Ben is lurching to his feet, thrusting the boards aside.

‘CJ!’ he exclaims. ‘It is CJ, right?’

‘Ben, damn it!’ Harry shouts. He tries to roll. Pain seizes him. He can barely hear Ben and CJ exchanging words above him.

‘I knew you had to be hiding here. Anthony’s idea to bring Gaston. Got rid of him for you.’

‘Thank you. We need your help – ’

‘Oh, _fuck you_ , you both brought him, I don’t care whose idea it was,’ Harry moans. He manages to roll onto his back and glares balefully up at them. ‘What’s the big idea, Ben? Are you surrendering?’

‘We need your help,’ Ben repeats to CJ. ‘He’s hurt…’

‘Show me,’ CJ says, businesslike. ‘How bad did he get you, Harry?’

‘Fuck, like you care.’ Harry sits up gingerly, holding the handkerchief to his chest, and puts a hand on the edge of the hole. He levers himself up slowly to floor level. He’s moving like an eighty year old man.

‘I do care, actually. Move your shirt.’

Harry glares, but Ben, the traitor, pushes him down to lie on his back and tugs his shirt out of the way so that CJ can get a good look at the gash in his chest. It’s a bad sign that he’s too relieved to be lying down to fight them off. Both of them crouch down and stare at him all seriously.

‘Right between the ribs,’ CJ says, pointing. ‘Could well be a punctured lung – ’

‘Oh my God, we’ve _had_ this conversation!’ Harry protests. ‘You are _not_ helpful!’

‘Is he bleeding into his mouth?’ CJ asks.

‘I’m going to murder you,’ Harry snarls.

‘He is,’ Ben says. He looks around. ‘Is Gaston coming back?’

‘He won’t want to check anywhere I think is worth checking,’ CJ says. ‘Hiding here wasn’t a bad idea.’ She peers at Harry’s chest again. ‘I don’t like the look of this.’

‘Christ, it’s a _scratch_ ,’ Harry whines. ‘I’d be fine if I hadn’t had to go piling in and out of holes in the ground on account of your friends…’

‘We can’t hide here forever,’ Ben interrupts, ‘and I don’t know if he’s fit to walk anywhere.’

‘Definitely not,’ CJ says. ‘Go out looking like this, you’ll get attacked in minutes. We need to get him some kind of help here.’ She turns back to Harry. ‘Breathe for me?’

Harry glowers, but he can’t very well refuse. On his next in-breath they all hear the whistle.

‘Sounds like air’s getting sucked into his chest through this hole,’ CJ says.

‘He’s not going to be able to breathe well if that keeps happening, is he?’ Ben asks.

‘I can’t breathe well _now_ ,’ Harry says.

‘He needs the cut closed up,’ CJ says. ‘Hold it closed until we get somebody who knows how to stitch him.’

‘You’ve got to go back to the pirate ship,’ Ben says. ‘The Lost Revenge. Get Uma.’

‘Oh Christ, how are you on board the Uma train too?’ CJ groans. ‘Is she a surgeon? How is she going to help?’

‘Who captured me? She did!’ Ben exclaims. ‘She might _know_ a surgeon; she’s resourceful.’

‘She won’t let me on board,’ CJ says. ‘Why don’t you go, if she’s who you want?’

‘I don’t know the way. He brought me here blindfolded.’

‘For fuck’s sake, Harry, what were you _thinking_?’ CJ says.

‘How is this my fault?’ Harry bursts out. Too loudly; he has to fight for breath before he can continue. 'You brought Anthony hunting for me; you brought _Gaston_!’

‘I didn’t mean for Anthony to stab you!’

‘What did you think he was going to do, give me a kiss?’

‘Look, say we sent you,’ Ben says. ‘She cares about Harry too much to ignore you. She’ll listen.’

CJ hovers for a moment. ‘Alright, she says abruptly.’ She pushes Ben’s hands back onto Harry’s chest. ‘I’ll go. Keep pressing down. I’ll be back soon.’

She scrambles to her feet and dashes out of the shack.

‘God, what did you let her go for?’ Harry groans. ‘What did you even call out to her for?’

Ben looks confused. ‘She’s going for Uma,’ he says.

Harry tries for a laugh, but it turns into coughing. ‘She’s going to run straight for Da,’ he says.

‘You’ve brought up more blood,’ Ben says.

‘I can taste it, thanks,’ Harry says. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be making that stop?’

‘Sorry,’ Ben says, and presses down harder on Harry’s abdomen, leaning his weight into his hands.

‘If I’m lucky maybe I’ll bleed out before I have to see the old man,’ Harry mutters.

‘If your sister does bring him, maybe he’ll help,’ Ben says. ‘Does his ship have a surgeon?’

‘He could have a fairy wand stuck up his arse and I still wouldn’t want to see him.’

‘I know you don’t like him, but if he cared so little that he wouldn’t even help when you’re hurt, your sister wouldn’t stay with him, would she?’

‘Don’t you dare!’ Harry bolts upright, and for a moment he’s so angry he hardly feels the pain that lances through him. ‘Don’t you _dare_ talk about my da! What do you know? You don’t know shit! You don’t know _shit_ about what a villain’s parents – ’

Another cough forces him to stop. He brings his hand to his mouth to cover it. It comes away bloody.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry; look, please lie back down,’ Ben says.

‘No,’ Harry says breathlessly. ‘No, sitting…sitting feels better, I just…’

‘Yes, alright, like when you have a cough and it’s worse in bed at night,’ Ben says.

‘Don’t _tell_ me what it’s _like_ , Benjamin, just…’

‘Just what? What do you need?’

‘Just help me sit up; I’m tired right now.’

‘Alright…’ Ben shuffles around behind Harry. ‘Lean on me and I’ll prop you up.’

It’s the last thing he wants to do, but Harry’s head is spinning again. He lets himself sink back against Ben’s chest.

‘Cold,’ he mutters. Ben wraps his arms round him at that, because Ben always has to _do something_ in response to people’s problems, whether it actually helps matters or not. Harry has to admit that he’s pretty warm.

‘You look pale,’ Ben murmurs. He clamps his hands one on top of the other over Harry’s cut. The handkerchief is more red than white. ‘I thought it would _stop bleeding_ …’

‘Damn it, this really is the end…’ Harry groans. He lets his head fall back. Ben’s fringe tickles his ear.

‘Don’t talk like that,’ Ben says.

‘I’m thinking of _you_ , idiot,’ Harry says. ‘If Da…’ He fights for breath. ‘If Da gets hold of you, that’s it; he’s going to force Auradon to trade you for something that only helps him. He won’t help Uma.’

‘I won’t agree to anything that doesn’t help Uma,’ Ben promises.

‘So he’ll hurt you until you agree!’ Harry snaps. ‘Just like I should have done when you first washed up here; then we wouldn’t be in this mess!’

There’s silence for a long time. Harry starts to hope that maybe he’s finally shocked the king into shutting up. He concentrates on taking stock of his breathing. But then Ben says, very quietly,

‘Thank you for not doing that.’

‘That’s not…the sort…of thing people normally thank you for.’ Harry doesn’t know if it’s laughing or crying or coughing that’s breaking up his words.

‘I’d have understood; it was to get yourself free, and Uma, and all your friends – ’

‘My _crew_ – ’

‘And it’s my fault that all of you are stuck here anyway. If only one person had to get hurt to fix it –’

‘Stop, stop.’ Harry brings his hand up awkwardly behind his head. He can’t see what he’s doing, and ends up more smacking Ben’s face than covering his mouth. But it gets the job done. ‘Your father’s fault.’

‘I don’t know what he was thinking,’ Ben says softly.

‘Bold of you to assume fathers think,’ Harry says. He lets himself sink back further. Ben leans his forehead against the side of Harry’s head. Harry can feel the bridge of his nose against his cheek.

‘You should go,’ he says.

‘What?’

‘Back to the ship.’

‘But it’s not safe there.’

‘Better’n here. Docks aren’t hard to find; it’s a small island. Just bear east.’

‘CJ said you need pressure on this stab wound.’

‘She probably said that to make you stay. You can’t let them catch you, Ben.’

‘You don’t even know she’s going to get your dad,’ Ben sooths. He rocks Harry very slightly. ‘Just try to rest and Uma will be here before you know it, I promise.’

‘ _I promised Uma_ that I’d stop anybody from taking you.’ Harry wants to hit something, he’s _useless_ when he can’t hit something; he clenches his teeth and his fists and tries to keep his voice steady. ‘Christ, that’s all I was supposed to do, I thought you said you’d _cooperate_.’

‘I’m not going to leave you,’ Ben says. ‘You protected me before.’

‘How exactly do you think you’re going to help?’ Harry whispers. He feels Ben shake his head.

‘It’s just the right thing to do.’

Harry closes his eyes. Heroes are _impossible_.

‘Also, you know,’ Ben continues, tone a little lighter, ‘I am still applying first aid, and I do still have that sword if it comes to it.’

‘Oh, _princey_ ,’ Harry sighs.

He hears the sound of footsteps in the street outside, and then CJ’s voice.

‘They were in here…’

‘Harry!’ He hears that lugubrious baritone, rich with worry like Harry knew it would be. ‘Harry, my boy, where are you?’

Harry keeps his head on Ben’s shoulder and his eyes on the ceiling. He sees the light dim as bodies fill the door of the shack.

‘Harry!’ CJ calls. She sounds panicked. ‘Are you okay?’

‘ _Back_ , girl, don’t crowd him,’ Hook says. ‘Harry, dear boy, can you hear us?’

Harry rolls his head to the side. And there’s his father, in his wrecked tail coat and dilapidated hat, the hook that Harry hates himself for adopting the only thing on him that’s still gleaming. He’s got two pirates with him; Mr Smee and another. Jones is his name. They’re both in worse shape than Hook is. Not much of an entourage. He looks pathetic. And yet Harry is acutely aware that this time there’s no water between his father and him, and nothing but his body between his father and Ben.

He wishes he’d shanked the bastard in one of his drunken stupors way back when. Would have saved a lot of trouble.

‘Tell me how badly he’s hurt,’ Hook says. Harry’s familiar with the whole _my-son-is-hurt_ routine. It was always Hook’s fault then, and it’s Hook’s fault now.

‘He’s lost blood,’ Ben says, ‘and he’s not breathing well. I think there’s air in his chest.’

‘Step away from him,’ Hook says.

‘He needs pressure on the wound.’

‘My mate Smee will see to him. Step away.’

The warmth vanishes from Harry’s back as Ben gets slowly to his feet. Mr Smee bustles over and crouches down next to Harry, and for one horrible moment it feels like nothing has changed for the past ten years, and the old first mate is still patching up his cuts and scrapes. For an even more horrible moment, it’s almost comforting.

‘Now, don’t you fret, Master Harry,’ Smee says. ‘We’ll set you to rights in no time. Let’s take a look…’

He pulls up Harry’s shirt and lifts away the handkerchief underneath, easing it free from the mess of dried blood it’s stuck in. Harry risks one quick glance at the wound. It’s barely more than a sword’s-width wide; far too small to be causing all this trouble. But it’s a lot bloodier than it looked in the alley when he and Ben were congratulating themselves on their near miss.

‘Through the ribs,’ Smee mutters, adjusting his spectacles. ‘Look at that. Swollen chest on one side. Tut tut.’

‘What does that mean?’ Hook calls urgently.

‘Looks like air escaping the lung, just as his majesty said.’

‘Can you help him, Smee?’

‘The trick is to siphon the air out and keep more from getting in,’ Smee says. ‘I might be able to improvise something from the things on the ship.’

‘No,’ Harry says.

‘Meantime I’ve got some nice clean bandages here,’ Smee says. ‘Let me make a pad of this; press it to the cut. Much better than just a handkerchief, yes?’

‘This is your doing!’ Hook says to CJ. ‘Look at him! Your own brother!’

‘Uma’s crew are on good terms with the Tremaines!’ CJ protests. ‘Anthony thought Uma and Harry weren’t going to get the job done, but I didn’t think he was going to _hurt_ him.’

‘If he dies because of you – ’

‘It’ll be a surprise twist after all the times you nearly killed me,’ Harry interrupts.

‘Don’t be cruel, Harry, please; not when you’re in danger,’ Hook says.

‘Who said I’m going to die?’ Smee is still fussing with the bandage around Harry’s flank. Harry slaps his hand away. ‘This is nothing. I’ve had _beatings_ worse than this!’

‘I only ever struck you children for your own good,’ Hook says.

‘I only got flogged half to death because I deserved it?’ Harry tries to shout, though it comes out as more of a croak. ‘Thanks, _Da!_ I’m not going to the ship.’ He grabs Smee’s shoulder and tries to use him to push himself to his feet, but his arms feel like washed-up kelp and his legs don’t want to move. ‘ _I’m not going back to the ship!_ Ben!’

‘Harry?’ Ben says at once.

‘Ben, help me up!’

‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea…’

‘He’s delirious,’ Hook says. ‘Smee, don’t let him injure himself.’

Smee puts weight on Harry’s legs. Harry pushes back. Everything hurts.

‘Ben, damn you!’ he calls. ‘CJ! I’m not – ’

‘Harry!’ CJ drops to her knees beside him. ‘We’ve got to move you; Gaston could come back – Harry, hold still, you’ll kill yourself!’

Ben’s at his back again. He puts his hands on Harry’s shoulders…and presses _down_ as well.

‘Harry, lie still,’ he begs, and Harry finds that somehow he _is_ lying. He’s lost a few seconds, and Ben and CJ are holding him down while Smee tidily adjusts the bandage on his stomach. It’s like something out of a bizarre nightmare.

‘Want to jump ship, princey?’ he rasps. He breathes in, and this time there’s no ignoring it: the breath goes in with a horrible, wheezing rattle, and there doesn’t seem to be enough of it to fill his lungs. ‘You promised, damn you, you promised.’

Ben squeezes his shoulder and gets to his feet.

‘He’ll lie quietly,’ he says, ‘and you can treat him right here,’

‘Jones, take hold of the king,’ Hook says to his other man. ‘Courteously now. Your majesty, he’ll be treated on board my ship. We have precious little material for doctoring, but more than nothing. Besides, it’s not safe here.’

‘That’s true enough,’ Harry says bitterly. ‘Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.’ He wants to laugh, but it hurts too much.

‘Gaston seems to be an unreliable ally,’ Hook says, ‘and he’ll regret that soon enough, but I don’t wish to meet him while I’m tending to you.’

‘He wants to go back to Uma’s ship,’ Ben insists.

‘Uma’s ship!’ Hook echoes. ‘Impressed you, did she, the young sea witch? Just like she impressed my son here, so much that he’s willing to die for her hare-brained schemes? Tell me, your majesty, what has Captain Uma actually accomplished to earn my son’s _undying_ loyalty, and yours? And what do you know about my family, that makes you so ready to speak out against the head of the family? Precious little, since you were pleased to leave us exiled here and not think of us for all those years. What were these poor children fighting over, anyway? Your person! Haven’t you caused enough trouble to me and mine?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Ben says, like clockwork.

‘Ben!’ Harry says. He hasn’t got the breath for anything more.

‘…but I promised,’ Ben says. He throws an elbow at Jones, who swears and lets go, and goes for his sword.

It’s over in a few seconds. Ben gets in a good pass at Jones, driving him well out of range, and then goes for Hook. _Captain_ Hook, who wasn’t made captain for nothing, who’s drawn faster than Harry’s dazed mind can follow. He moves, a fencer’s lunge, and for a moment Harry thinks he’s going to spit Ben then and there, but no. Disarming strike. Ben’s sword falls with a clatter.

Hook follows up with his left arm. The hook flashes as it sweeps towards Ben’s face. Harry’s trying to rise again; he knows all the possibilities: lacerated cheek, gouged eye, jugular gouting blood. CJ’s got her arms right round him to hold him back. The hook connects with a _thud_. Ben cries out. He staggers away from Hook, hand held to his face.

‘Stand there quietly and think on all the ways a man can hurt,’ Hook says. He stoops and picks up Ben’s fallen sword, grasping it awkwardly in the same hand as his own. Harry’s eyes are still on Ben, trying to make out the damage. Ben lowers his hand slowly, and Harry sees at once that his father got him with the curved side of the hook. There’s a welt already rising on his cheek, and there may well be a broken cheekbone beneath it, but his face isn’t the mangled mess the pointy end would have made of it. A warning shot, and judging by Ben’s huge eyes, and the way his hand shakes, it’s going to be more than enough. Harry wonders if it’s the first time the king’s ever been properly hit.

‘I know this blade,’ Hook says. ‘Arming your hostage, Harry?’

Harry had forgotten it was his stupid _fucking_ sword Ben was swinging around. He opens his mouth to reply, but nothing comes out.

‘There’s blood in his mouth,’ CJ says. ‘Harry? Harry!’

‘He’s bleeding into the lung,’ Smee says. Harry tries to breathe in. There’s a gurgling sound. It feels like accidentally taking a breath underwater. His chest spasms, and he tries to cough, but he can’t get any air to cough. _I can’t breathe_ , he tries to say, and can’t get any air to speak. His lungs feel like they’re tearing themselves apart.

‘Harry!’ Hook tosses the swords aside, drops on his knees beside him. ‘Smee, help him!’

Harry feels other hands on his shoulders. Ben; he sees the glint of the gold signet ring he wears. Ben grabs him by the chin and tilts his head back until he’s staring at the ceiling. That little bit more space opens up in his throat. Harry sucks in air, and starts to cough.

‘Turn him!’ Smee says. He and Ben roll Harry onto his hands and knees. His arms are too weak to hold him up, so Ben supports him above the ground as he coughs, and coughs, and coughs, spattering the floorboards with blood and phlegm. His eyes are watering with breathlessness and pain.

Finally he manages to raise his head. Ben is staring at him, face desperate with worry. Harry sees that he’s bleeding a little after all, right in the centre of the bruise, where the hook drove into his cheekbone with enough force to split the skin.

‘Uma,’ he manages to say.

‘Harry?’ Ben leans closer. His whole face says, _tell me, I’m listening_. Harry tries to oblige him.

‘Get Uma,’ he rasps. ‘I wanna see her…’

‘He wants Uma,’ Ben says at once, turning to Hook. No sense of self-preservation, that one. ‘She doesn’t even know he’s hurt. Please.’

‘The last thing he needs is the witchling’s meddling,’ Hook says.

‘Fetch her,’ Harry says, ‘or I won’t talk to you again until…’ He has to pause for breath. ‘Or you either, CJ.’

‘You’ll live to thank me for fixing your mess,’ Hook says.

Harry presses his lips shut. The state he’s in, it’s actually easier not to talk.

‘I’ll tell her to come to the ship, Da,’ CJ says. ‘Seeing his friend, it might do him good…’

She half-rises, waiting to see if Hook will stop her. He says nothing. She hurries out of the shack, and Harry’s chest feels just a little lighter.

‘Bind some of these boards together for a stretcher,’ Hook says to Smee and Jones.

‘You still want to move him?’ Ben demands. He’s rolled Harry carefully onto his side and is bending over him. Harry is vaguely aware that he’s gripping his hand.

‘Do you need another lesson, boy?’ Hook asks. He’s massaging his wrist. The old man always jars his arm when he hits with the hook, and yet it doesn’t stop him from doing it. Harry lets his eyes fall shut, and focusses on breathing against the dull, steady ache all along his right side. He hears the clatter of wood as Smee and Jones get the boards up and lashed together, and then they’re crouching by him, gripping him firmly at shoulders and hips. Harry grits his teeth in anticipation. They barely lift him, sliding him carefully sideways towards the makeshift stretcher, but the motion is still enough to stoke the ache back into a blaze of pain right through his chest. There’s an awful groaning noise coming from somewhere, and Harry supposes he must be making it, but nothing quite feels real any more.

‘He’s pale as anything, Captain,’ Smee says.

‘Easy, Harry, easy, easy,’ Ben’s murmuring. He’s still clinging to Harry’s hand, and Harry wonders which of them he’s trying to reassure.

‘Now, King Benjamin, are you going to behave, or do I need to bind your hands?’ Hook asks. ‘Hmm. Perhaps not. Get up, and walk between me and the stretcher.

‘Ben,’ Harry whispers, gesturing weakly for Ben to bend closer. He giggles a little as Smee and Jones lift the stretcher; it’s either that or scream. ‘He can’t tie knots, Ben, and him a sailor. Tick tock.’

Ben looks frightened, like he thinks Harry might be talking nonsense rather than making a very funny joke.

‘Uma’s coming,’ he says reassuringly, and gives Harry’s hand a squeeze. He walks by the stretcher as instructed, as Smee and Jones carry it out into the dingy light of the alley.

Hook’s crewmen are lumbering oafs. They make Harry feel every bump in the road, and this being the Isle, there are plenty of bumps. Harry isn’t too confident about old Smee’s ability to hold up his end of the stretcher either. Moving through the streets is unnerving in itself. Maleficent in her heyday was about the only villain who could move anywhere on the Isle without fear of assault at the best of times, and hauling around an injured man is asking to get mugged. Mugged for the greatest treasure ever to land on the Isle. Harry glances again at Ben, who’s watching him instead of their surroundings, who doesn’t understand the danger and doesn’t know to watch his back.

‘No need to fret, young master,’ Smee puffs. ‘Our Captain Hook’ll set things to rights now, just you see. He’s had dealings with the nobility before, you know. He’ll know just what to do.’

‘Uma had a good idea of what to do,’ Ben said, ‘and I don’t think the nobility are going to like what Captain Hook’s done to my face.’ There’s that tiny edge of steel in his voice again, colder than Harry’s heard it yet.

‘The nobility always have things just as they like it, don’t they?’ Hook says. ‘In Auradon, and on Captain Uma’s ship as well, it seems. Get along with you.’ He cuffs Ben on the shoulder.

 _Uma_ , Harry thinks. Uma, with a bit of luck, isn’t going to answer CJ’s summons. She isn’t going to be stupid enough to walk into Hook’s arms just because Harry spent the last little bit of bargaining power he had to ask for her.

It’s a cold bit of comfort to hang on to as he’s hauled through the island fog towards his father’s ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All comments and criticism welcome <3


	4. Chapter Four

It’s an indeterminate amount of time later that they reach the _Jolly Roger_. Harry thinks he might have faded out a few times, and that’s more frightening than anything; the idea of being unconscious in the middle of those dangerous streets. They take him up the gangplank, and it’s so close to what should be happening, boarding a ship at the end of the day; but not on a stretcher. Not this ship.

‘Captain’s back!’ somebody shouts.

‘Who’s that hurt?’

‘It’s the young master,’ Smee calls back.

‘Who’s this, then?’ Dear Christ, they’ve spotted Ben.

‘Presenting his royal highness, Ben son of Beast!’ Jones declares. Harry hears the reaction sweep through the crew: first incredulity, then delight.

‘God save the king!’ some wit shouts, and they all take up the cry. Ben shrinks even closer to the side of Harry’s stretcher and grips Harry’s hand like a drowning man.

‘Clear a path, you bilge rats; don’t hinder us!’ Hook cries, a slight edge to his usual seaman’s roar. ‘Jones, Smee, take him below. Who here’s handy as a surgeon? Come with us!’

‘What’s wrong with the boy, then?’ Harry hears.

‘How now, is he hurt bad?’

‘Mother of God, he’s pale as death…’

‘Don’t let me spoil your celebration, lads,’ he says weakly. He cracks open one eye, and their faces swim past: the ones who’d romped with him around the ship, the ones who’d played at schoolmaster, the terrors who’d shopped him to his da for the least little thing.

‘Bear up now, Master Harry; Mr Smee’ll have you right as rain in no time,’ one of them says encouragingly.

‘Now you all be nice to my guest,’ he says, and gets a general laugh for his pains. And then he’s being carried below deck, into the cabin set aside for the sick, and finally, finally lowered to the floor.

He longs for some privacy to bleed in, since not bleeding seems not to be an option, but he’s not going to get it. What with the men Hook’s ordered to come and help, and all the hopefuls who’ve tagged along to get a look at him and King Ben, the cabin’s pretty crowded.

‘Get back, you scoundrels! Give him some air!’ Hook shouts, making Harry’s ears ring. Meanwhile, Smee is opening the cupboards full of scavenged trash that passes for medical supplies.

‘Now, Perkins, rummage through these odds and ends and see if you can find anything answering to the name of tubing,’ he instructs one of the crew. ‘Jones, I’ll need boiling water, and Smyth, whet this knife for me, would you? Good and sharp.’

‘You’re going to cut him without anaesthetic?’ Ben exclaims.

‘Don’t like it, shouldn’t’ve left us here,’ Harry tells him. ‘Da. Here. Da.’

Hook comes and crouches by his head at once. ‘Harry?’ he asks.

‘Ben,’ Harry whispers. ‘Crew’ll shred him, you’re not careful. Got to watch; on the _Revenge_ I always watched…’

‘If Uma isn’t sure of her crew, that’s her affair, but I’m sure of mine,’ Hook says coldly.

‘I’ll see you in hell,’ Harry says, in the hissing whisper that’s all he can mutter. Hook jerks back. For an instant he looks stricken.

 _You’ll burn hotter than me_ , Harry thinks.

‘Uma!’ he hears Ben exclaim.

Harry cranes his neck. All he can see is Smee’s stupid crowd of assistants blocking the door, but they’re muttering and jeering, so she must be here.

 _Uma_. It feels like an age since they said goodbye. _Why did you come_? he thinks, but his heart is leaping in his chest. Everything will come right if he can just lay eyes on her, he feels, and knows that’s fairy tale nonsense, and feels it anyway.

‘Harry!’ a voice cries, and somebody’s rushing on him. Not Uma, but Gil.

‘Gently!’ Ben says, but Gil ignores him. He throws himself down on his knees beside Harry and bends to kiss him full on the mouth. Now Harry knows he’s crying, audience or no. He kisses back, though he can’t get air; he’d rather be manhandled by Gil than fussed over by Ben any day of the week.

‘You marked my hostage?’ That’s Uma’s voice. ‘Five days I had him and you damage him in five minutes?’

‘He threatened me,’ Hook replies coldly.

‘Good for him,’ Uma says. Her voice takes on that tone that no one dares ignore. ‘Where’s my first mate? Out of my way! Where is he?’

Gil pulls back from Harry and shuffles to the side, and now, at last, Harry can see her. Uma.

She stands over him and looks down. Her face is impassive, but Harry sees it flicker, just for a second, as she takes in how he looks. He tries to bring his elbows under himself, to sit up, to greet her properly.

‘Lie still, Harry,’ she orders, and he obeys at once. Come to think of it, that’s much more sensible. She’ll be worried if she sees he can’t sit up, but she’ll be worried if he overexerts himself too. No sense trying to fool her.

‘Uma,’ he says. ‘Was hope – ’ He cuts off, coughs. ‘Was hoping you’d make it.’

Uma walks to his side and crouches, more carefully than Gil. ‘They say fate drives the hardest bargains of all,’ she says. ‘I get a shot at freedom but it’s gonna cost me you, is that it?’

‘ ’M’sorry,’ Harry whispers. ‘Tried to do what you said – ’

‘And when did I say, “get stabbed for the sake of my stupid plan,” Harry?’ Uma asks, her voice too loud, too laughing, too brittle.

Harry shakes his head. ‘Good plan. Stupid me. Wasn’t looking… _Anthony Tremaine_ …have to be an idiot…’

Uma’s jaw is tight. That always means somebody’s in trouble. Her eyes have a bright gloss to them. Beautiful eyes.

‘Uma,’ he sighs, ‘why’d you come?’

‘Why’d you ask me?’

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry – ’

‘Hush, you,’ Uma says. She squeezes his shoulder. One finger finds the bruise that she put on his neck, less than a day ago. Her touch burns like it always does. ‘Of course I came. You know why I came.’

‘Wanted to see you,’ Harry says. ‘Thought…thought for a moment this might be it…’ For an instant Uma’s face shows so much pain that Harry changes tack at once. ‘Uma…if my da…after…I’m sorry…’

‘You really think I walked in here without a plan?’ Uma asks, loud enough for the crew around them to hear. ‘Come on, Harry.’

She sounds utterly confident, and Harry wants to believe in her, has always believed in her, but he can’t see how she’s getting off this ship unless his father lets her walk. And the pressure is mounting still higher in his chest. He tries to suppress a cough, till his muscles have him arching off the boards and coughing hard, bringing blood and a fresh wave of pain.

‘Harry,’ Uma says, and there’s a horrible, raw edge to her voice that he’s never heard before.

‘Right here, Uma,’ he mouths. No air left to speak.

‘So, King Benjamin,’ Uma says suddenly, loudly. ‘You’ve been spinning these negotiations out. Awaiting developments. Plan work? Got what you wanted?’

‘No,’ Ben says. ‘God, no…’

‘Get out of the way, girl, and let Smee see to him,’ Hook breaks in. ‘She’s got one thing right, king: if my son doesn’t live to see tomorrow then neither will you!’

‘I think I can ease his breathing,’ Smee says, ‘but he’ll be liable to infection – ’

‘Wait, stop!’ Gil says suddenly. He’s been crouched by Harry since he first came in, but now he scrambles to his feet. ‘This is all wrong. Ben, do something. Make them take him outside the barrier and fix him with magic. I know they don’t want to let us all out but he’s just one person.’ He draws his sword. There’s an answering rush of steel as Hook’s men reach for their weapons in return, but Gil ignores all of them and levels his sword at Ben. ‘I’m threatening you or I’m asking you nicely. Whichever one makes you _do it_. You’re the king.’

‘You’d trade away our only advantage?’ Hook protests.

‘He’s your _son_!’ Gil says.

It would be the final indignity. Trading the king for one single round of medical care. Harry opens his mouth to tell them not to be insane, but he’s afraid. He doesn’t want to bleed out here, under an eternally grey sky, a half mile away from all the magic in the world. He opens his mouth, and what comes out is,

‘I can’t _breathe_.’

‘Harry!’ Uma says. ‘Harry, don’t you dare.’

‘I’m the king,’ Ben says, like its news to him. ‘Alright. He’ll be fine.’ He slides slowly to his knees beside Harry, one hand held out towards Uma, who looks ready to spring. He places the other tentatively on Harry’s chest. ‘Breathe.’

Harry does. His ribs raise and lower the weight of Ben’s hand, and this breath comes just a little easier.

‘You’ll be _fine_ ,’ Ben says to Harry.

‘Say it like that and I’m almost persuaded,’ Harry says weakly.

‘Ouch!’ Uma says. She puts her hand to the shell round her neck.

It’s glowing golden.

‘Magic doesn’t work on the Isle,’ Uma says, staring at Ben.

‘Magic works on the Isle,’ he replies.

Outside, the wind picks up. The wooden ship groans. The air somehow smells fresher than anything Harry’s breathed before.

‘I’m sorry,’ Ben says, and puts his hand through the rent in Harry’s shirt, palm flat to his chest. Uma seizes his wrist, ready to pull him off, but,

‘This won’t hurt him,’ Ben promises her. He works Smee’s bandage out of the way. ‘Harry, you’ve bled enough. Uma, hold onto him.’

Uma lets go of Ben and loops her arm under Harry’s neck instead.

‘Harry, stay with us,’ she says.

‘What’s going _on_?’ Harry protests.

‘You’re not going to like this,’ Ben says, ‘but it won’t hurt. I’m so sorry.’ He pushes his fingers into the wound in Harry’s side. Harry flinches hard. Uma’s holding him down. ‘It doesn’t hurt,’ Ben repeats, and it doesn’t hurt, but it feels _bizarre_. ‘No air in your chest cavity. That’s good. Breathe for me.’ Harry breathes in and out, and every breath comes easier.

‘Harry,’ Gil says, leaning over Ben’s shoulder, his face all hope and tears. ‘I knew you’d be okay, Harry…’

‘Keep going,’ Uma orders.

‘It’s just blood where it’s not supposed to be,’ Ben says. His fingers twitch inside Harry’s chest. ‘Come on…’

He withdraws his hand. His fingers are red and wet. Something follows his fingers; a reddish-black trail of something that twists like a sea snake. Harry realises that it’s blood, his blood; all the blood that had seeped out inside him, half-clotted and glistening darkly.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t know how to put it back where it belongs,’ Ben says, ‘but you’ll make more.’

‘For the love of God, _stop_ ,’ Harry says.

He struggles halfway upright and puts a hand to his chest. What he finds is a shallow gash, definitely enough to ruin his whole day, but definitely _not_ through his ribs and leaking air into his lung.

‘What the _hell_?’ he gasps.

‘Don’t let him sit up, idiots; he’s hurt enough!’ one of Smee’s helpers calls. He’s somewhere back behind Gil, so far out of the circle of people who matter right now that Harry hardly registers.

‘Show me,’ Uma says, voice hard.

Harry looks at his chest again. There’s a closed, pink mark that looks weeks old.

‘I said stop!’ he shouts.

‘I don’t know how!’ Ben rocks back on his heels, helplessly raising both hands.

‘Get away from him!’ Hook snarls, trying to shove past Gil’s bulk. Uma quickly leans across Harry and beckons to Ben. He bends close, and she puts her mouth right by his ear and whispers,

‘Ben, tell them to let us go. Now. While they’re surprised. Or you’ll hurt them with magic.’

‘I don’t think it _does_ that,’ Ben mouths back.

 _How can you know what it does_?’ Harry almost yells, but Uma is faster and far more practical.

‘Lie,’ she orders. ‘ _Bluff_.’

‘My son!’ Hook forces his way to the side of the stretcher, but Ben moves quickly behind Harry and turns to face him. He keeps his hand on Harry’s shoulder, standing so close that Harry can feel him right against his back.

‘He’s well,’ he says. It sounds like a threat.

Harry stares into Hook’s haggard face with its tear-reddened eyes. He shouldn’t be well, caught between the man who taught him what villainy means and the one who just remade his body to suit his fancy, but he is.

‘Harry,’ Hook says, and reaches for him. Harry flinches back, and Ben’s hand on his shoulder slides round his chest like a shield. Hook stops.

‘You owe his life to the _king_ ,’ Uma says loudly.

‘Get me up,’ Harry mutters, because if Ben’s going to keep touching him, he can at least make himself useful. Ben unwinds his arm from around Harry’s chest and offers it for him to lean on, the very picture of chivalry. Harry grabs him tight and pushes up. His head is still swimming, from shock and all that blood that Ben didn’t know how to put back, but there’s no pain. Ben brings him to his feet, and then cautiously steps away. Harry stands.

‘Show ’em, Harry,’ Uma says, with a little tilt of her chin. Harry can hardly bear to look himself, but he pulls his shirt up and displays all he has to show for the day’s work: a little blood smeared across unbroken, un-scarred skin.

‘Mary, mother of God!’ Smyth curses softly.

‘The king’s hands! God save the king!’ Another pirate speaks the same phrase as before, speaks it for real. Others raise their fists to strike him into silence.

‘Idiot, it’s a trick!’

‘A trick!’

Ben holds up his hands, still red with Harry’s blood. Clearly it’s not a trick.

‘How did you do it?’ Mr Smee half-whispers.

‘He used magic,’ Gil says at once.

‘We know _that_ , lad,’ another pirate says impatiently. ‘How did he do magic on the _Isle_?’

‘I’m the king,’ Ben says.

‘Do you mean to say,’ Hook says, ‘that all this time, you’ve been able to – ’

Ben is standing a little behind Harry, so Harry can’t see the look he gives then. And he’s quite glad, because whatever it looks like, it makes his father stop dead in the middle of his sentence.

‘I told you over and over that I was willing to stay,’ Ben says, ‘but I’ll only negotiate with Uma. Nobody else on this island.’

‘You’ll all get your justice,’ Uma says, ‘but we need time to decide how, and _no-one_ is to interfere until we do. We’re leaving now.’

She sets off walking. Harry follows her, and the king follows him. Gil swings in to cover their rear. Nobody moves to stop them.

Harry’s surprised he can put one foot in front of the other. He feels giddy and sick, but no worse than he’s felt on hungry days before. Uma puts her hand on the doorknob, and nobody stops them. A few of them do reach out and try to touch him, reverently, with their fingertips. _Touch the king,_ Harry wants to shout, _he was the one who did the magic!_ He bares his teeth at the members of his father’s crew who are trying to put hands on him, and Gil interposes himself between them and him while Ben takes him by the shoulder to guide him to the door. Meanwhile, Uma doesn’t so much as glance back. If she does, if she falters for an instant, Harry knows the spell will break.

They climb up onto the deck. His father’s crew drift after them, not to stop them but just to stare. Harry’s shoulder blades are starting to itch. Surely any moment now they’re going to put two and two together and realise that if Ben had had any offensive magic whatsoever, he would have been able to stop Harry from getting stabbed in the first place. But no, apparently his father likes to crew his ship with sailors as thick as two short planks.

They descend the gangplank. Nobody stops them.

There’s a crowd on the docks. Not openly staring, but sort of…milling. They all know that Hook has his errant son, his rival captain and the king of Auradon on board ship. They’re waiting for a gloating announcement, or to see the corpses go over the side. But when Harry, Uma, Gil and Ben walk down the gangplank, nobody waylays them. Nobody tries to grab the prize the whole Isle’s been after. Maybe the more observant have put together that Harry went in on a stretcher and is coming out on his feed, and have guessed that the explanation for that is something they don’t want to tangle with. If the four of them are able to breeze their way off Hook’s ship, there must be a reason why, and nobody wants to find out the hard way what that reason is. Islanders can smell trouble a mile away.

When Harry and Gil walked at Uma’s side, most people kept out of the way, because they knew what the three of them were capable of. Now Ben is at Uma’s side, and the crowd is parting as if by magic. They don’t even know why they’re doing it.

Uma lets them catch her up, so that they’re walking abreast along the dock, with the whole crowd staring at them and pretending not to be a crowd and not to stare. Harry sneaks a proper glance at Ben; his first since whatever Ben did that shut his father up, and oh God, there it is.

Everything about him screams _king_. It’s all the more overwhelming because there’s no hint of swagger in it. He just _is_.

They must teach good posture at Auradon prep.

‘Keep moving,’ Uma mutters. She leads them sharp left off the docks, into a cramped street with a few shabby market stalls, mostly unoccupied. As soon as they’re out of sight of the crowd, she picks up the pace to a near-run.

‘Well done, Gil; keep watching our backs,’ she says tersely. ‘Harry, you alright?’

‘Fine, Captain,’ he says, keeping pace with her. A better word might be _disoriented_. His brain is still half-convinced that there’s a hole through his lung, but there isn’t, and that’s making his head spin. Or maybe it’s just the almost-sleepless night catching up with him.

 _Or maybe_ it’s the realisation that the prisoner jogging along beside him has the power to just ignore the rules. That’s enough to make anybody anxious.

‘Are you alright, Harry?’ Ben asks.

‘Literally _just_ answered that, princey,’ Harry says. ‘Keep up.’ He grabs him by the elbow and hauls him forwards.

Uma cuts down another, even narrower street, and now they really are alone.

‘Anyone following, Gil?’ she asks, not breaking stride.

‘Not yet, Captain,’ he answers.

Ben slows. ‘What happened back there?’ he murmurs. Whatever he was projecting to scatter the people around the _Revenge_ , it’s already faded, but that just makes Harry more uneasy. He likes being able to _see_ how dangerous people are.

‘I’d hoped you’d tell me that,’ Uma says. ‘ _Keep moving_.’

‘I could use a moment,’ Ben says.

‘In a _moment_ ,’ Uma says, pausing, ‘those people on the dock are going to get over their shock and awe. And Hook’s crew are going to start spreading the story. How much do you think they’re going to want to get hold of a king who can _heal people_?’

Ben’s face fills with dismay. Harry would sneer – is he _still_ shocked by what the Isle is like? – but he hadn’t considered the implications either. It won’t just be people who want power anymore; everybody with a cough or a sprain is going to want a piece of him.

Damnation.

 _Damnation_.

‘You’ll get your moment when we’re back on the ship,’ Uma says, starting forward again, and Gil crowds in close behind Ben and gets him moving with far less menace and far more speed than Harry could have managed.

‘We’re going back to the ship?’ Ben asks as they walk.

‘Nowhere else to go,’ Uma replies. Well, Ben had already worked that out, but hearing Uma admit it really drives home to Harry that they’re out of options. There’s no point even lying to the king that they’re not.

They round another corner, and the sea is in front of them again. There’s the jetty, that Harry and Ben fumbled their way across in darkness a fight and a near-death experience ago, and there, riding out on the water, is the _Lost Revenge_. Harry knows it’s a pretty poor safe haven, but his heart still rises. They’ll get on board, and then everything will be alright. Somehow.

‘We’re here already?’ Ben asks. Still piecing together that map in his head.

‘How many docks do you think this island has?’ Uma says.

‘I’m just surprised you live so close to Harry’s father.’

‘Everywhere on the Isle is close to Harry’s father. And Gil’s, and my mother. Personally I’d rather have ’em within spitting distance.’ Uma strides forward, to the edge of the dock. ‘Ahoy there! Crew!’

‘Captain!’ It’s Mathilde who answers. She leaps into the rigging so that she can swing right out over the side of the ship. ‘Is Harry – ?’

‘Right here, Tilly!’ Harry calls back. Mathilde is joined by others: the whole crew leaning anxiously over the side of the ship. Harry wonders how much they know, and where they stand. Do they know that Uma sent Ben on-shore to get him away from them? Has the disagreement that was brewing yesterday spread any further since he was gone? There’s Jonas, looking just as worried as anybody else, so clearly he hasn’t started a mutiny yet.

Whatever else, they must have heard that Harry was hurt. He tries to stand as tall as possible, to forestall the idea that Uma’s let anything go wrong. Though a part of his mind grumbles that if he were being carried onto this ship on a stretcher then he wouldn’t have to answer any questions.

‘Send the boat across,’ Uma orders. ‘Quickly now.’

The _Revenge_ is still standing off from the dock, so close to the barrier that the fog swirls around her crow’s nest. Ben and Harry waded ashore that morning, but the tide is high now. The crew hop to it, lowering away the little row boat that they keep on the stern of the ship. It’s Jonas who takes the oars. As he beats his way across the water to them, Harry keeps an uneasy eye on every road that spits out onto the docks, and on the bend in the shoreline that hides his father’s ship, so uncomfortably close. How long before someone – before dozens of people – come pouring onto the jetty, all trying to get their hands on the king who can heal?

Jonas brings the row boat up against the docks, and the four of them climb down the slimy ladder. Uma first, then Ben, then Harry, then Gil. The little boat is heavy laden. Gil wordlessly takes an oar and help Jonas drive them back towards the _Revenge_.

‘So,’ Uma says to Jonas, ‘been stirring up trouble while I was away?’

‘I was only suggesting what I thought was best,’ Jonas protests. ‘You didn’t need to send the hostage away over it.’

So he, at least, knows why Ben and Harry disappeared for a day. And he’s not pretending not to know what Uma’s talking about. Harry isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

‘I heard your suggestion, and I told you what I thought of it,’ Uma says. ‘Have you carried on suggesting behind my back?’

‘No, Captain.’

‘So I’m not going to hear anybody else repeating your suggestion when I climb aboard?’

Jonas misses his oar stroke, clearly caught out. Gil hauls and the boat lurches left.

‘Everybody was panicking and wondering what to do!’ Jonas exclaims. He forces his oar through the water again, trying to catch up with Gil. ‘Hostage gone, captain gone, first mate gone, second mate gone…’

‘I wouldn’t have had to go hide the king if it hadn’t been for you spouting nonsense,’ Harry says, ‘and the captain wouldn’t have had to come get me either.’

Jonas swallows. ‘Your sister said you were hurt,’ he says, very quietly.

‘Not too hurt to toss you overboard,’ Harry says. Ben’s looking back and forth between the three of them. Probably squirrelling new knowledge of the crew away along with his new knowledge of the Isle. Gil works the oar stolidly, but he looks unhappy. They slip into the shadow of the _Revenge_.

‘Jonas.’ Uma leans forward. ‘Can I be sure of the crew?’

‘We all want to help you fix this. That’s _all_ we want.’

‘You want to help me. That’s sweet. But are you going to _obey_ me?’

Jonas says nothing.

‘Perfect,’ Uma says. ‘You will.’ It sounds like a promise and a threat. ‘Hold the boat steady.’

They bump against the side of the _Revenge_. Mathilde has the rope ladder hanging down ready for them. Uma stands and is off up the ladder before Jonas can say another word. Harry follows. He wants to be right behind her.

Eager hands reach out to Uma. Harry can _feel_ the relief washing off the crew as they pull her onto the deck. There are questions and exclamations, but Uma’s voice cuts through the commotion like a whip.

‘And who told you all to drop what you were doing?’ she asks.

It’s Bonny, tough and practical, who answers.

‘CJ told us that Harry was dying.’

‘Come on, you all know my sister’s a drama queen,’ Harry says. Mathilde comes straight over and starts clinging to him anyway. He tucks her into his side as he waits to hear what will happen next.

‘I can see there’ll be no peace around here till you ask your questions,’ Uma says easily. ‘Harry’s fine.’ Mathilde squeezes Harry harder round the ribs, like she’s making sure. ‘What else?’

‘Where did they go?’ Bonny asks. ‘What happened?’

‘I thought it best to move the king for a bit after some of our parents came sniffing around yesterday. Turns out that was a bad plan. They had a brush with Hook.’

Consternation all around. Gonzo swears. Mathilde’s grip on Harry turns painfully tight.

‘King got hurt,’ Bonny says, jerking her head towards Ben’s messed-up face.

‘It’s nothing,’ Ben says quickly.

‘Brave boy, isn’t he?’ Uma says easily. ‘Any more questions?’

‘Captain.’ Bonny swallows, then speaks loudly. ‘This has gone on for long enough. We’re a target for everybody on the Isle as long as we’re holding the king. Soon enough somebody’s going to come at us with a force we can’t repel.’

‘Good summary of the problem,’ Uma says. ‘So, do you have a suggestion for what we should do about it?’

‘We need to persuade people to _our_ side,’ Bonny says. ‘Make them see that you’re the best person to turn this situation to the whole Isle’s advantage.’

‘Agreed,’ Uma says. ‘Of course, in order to do that, I’d need to actually offer something that’s to the whole Isle’s advantage. Like, say, removing the barrier altogether. And not all of you seemed to like the idea of holding out for that. Some of you said I should just help crew.’ She looks sidelong at Jonas.

‘This would be over faster if we made a real threat!’ Jonas explodes suddenly. ‘Auradon are laughing in our faces, but we’ve got their damned king!’ He looks frightened and regretful, like he doesn’t want to be speaking out against Uma, but he keeps going anyway.

 _Damn it_ , Harry thinks, _he really does think he’s helping._

‘They think we’re not going to hurt him, whatever we claim,’ Jonas presses on. ‘Well, I say let’s prove we are.’

He takes a step towards Ben, but Harry lets go of Mathilde and gets in his way. Jonas stops short. Harry bares is teeth.

‘You still want to cut him up after he saved our first mate’s life?’ Uma asks. ‘That seems like bad form.’

‘What do you mean?’ Bonny demands.

‘I thought you said Harry was fine!’ Mathilde cries, stepping closer to Harry again. Harry can feel Ben close against his shoulder, just like he could when he was shielding him from Anthony back at the lodge. Between him and Mathilde he’s going to have trouble getting his sword out if he needs to.

He really, really hopes he’s not going to need to.

‘Well I’m fine _now_ ,’ he says, shrugging his shoulder to try and get Ben to give him some room.

‘He got hurt and the king healed him with magic,’ Gil says.

There’s uproar.

‘What?’

‘That’s not possible!’

‘ _How_ is that possible?’

‘It’s his damned Isle, of course it’s possible!’

‘Quiet,’ Uma says. The crew fall silent. ‘It’s possible. Never mind how. And it gets worse. He healed Harry with magic, and Hook’s whole crew saw him do it. So now the rest of the Isle doesn’t just know that we’ve got a valuable hostage. They know we’ve got a _magical_ hostage. I expect we’ll have twice the competition we did before.’

‘Then Jonas is right!’ Gonzo exclaims. ‘We’ve got to _force_ Auradon to let us out of here, or we’re finished.’

Harry can see the logic. He’s struggling to see an alternative that _doesn’t_ involve getting Ben bloody to force Auradon’s hand. And yet he doesn’t relax his stance between him and Jonas. Keeping the king from coming to grief has been his one goal all day, after all. He can’t just switch it off.

‘I don’t see how that _helps_ us,’ Gil’s saying. ‘Even if we write Auradon a scary letter, we have to wait until they send Mal or somebody to collect it. And we don’t know how they’ll answer.’

‘I think I might be able to guess,’ Ben says unexpectedly. He doesn’t sound nearly as frightened as Harry might expect. Has he got something up his sleeve?

‘Be quiet,’ Jonas tells him. ‘I’ll say you’ve worked some magic; you seem to have come back with everybody in your pocket – ’

Harry and Gil both move at once, but they’re not needed. The outcry is instant.

‘Too far!’ Desiree shouts.

‘The captain would never – ’

‘Shut up, you – ’

‘Captain, none of us think that!’ Mathilde cries. Bonny steps forward and yanks Jonas back by the shoulder, away from Harry and Ben. Uma ignores all the shouting and turns to Ben.

‘Tell us, your majesty. How will they answer if we hurt you for real?’

‘You tell me,’ Ben says, ‘why my father hasn’t sent a company of guards marching up your gangplank to get me back yet.’

It’s back again. The voice backed with steel and the stance that screams _king_.

It’s a hell of a question. If they haven’t used all the force they could have, then neither have Auradon. Even that first letter – _release the king, and your trial will be more lenient_ – sounds quite mild now that Harry thinks on it.

Uma says nothing. She’s wearing the faint smile that she uses to appear unbothered while she takes time to think. In these situations it’s usually Harry’s job to keep chattering until she’s ready to speak. He swallows to make sure his voice will come out even.

‘I’d assumed,’ he says, would-be-casually, ‘that it’s because he’s not in a hurry to have you back.’

Ben raises his eyebrows in agreement. ‘I did wonder,’ he says, ‘when he put Mal in charge of the negotiations. It’s not her job to be a diplomat. I expect he thinks I’m learning a valuable lesson what villainy really means. Well, I am. The opposite of the one he’d like, maybe, but I am. But I think his attitude would change if you started cutting me up.

‘I’ve been very clear, in all my letters and to anyone who’ll listen, that I don’t think I’m in danger here. That I want to negotiate. And I think Mal’s been doing more than you give her credit for to make sure that the council understands that. If they thought I _was_ in danger, though, they’d act. What will you do if they send more soldiers than you can fight off, Uma?’

‘That’s the point of having a hostage,’ she replies. ‘There’s nothing all the soldiers in the world can do as long as I can threaten you.’

‘So if a company of guards landed on the Isle and threatened to fight your crew for me, you’d make good on your threats and cut my throat?’ Ben asks. ‘And how would you protect your crew after that?’

This time, Uma doesn’t answer and doesn’t smile. There’s no sound on deck but the sighing of the waves.

‘You’d hand me over in exchange for clemency for them,’ Ben continues mercilessly. ‘You’d hand me over to protect any one of them. I’ve seen how you love your crew, Uma. You’re the best captain they could ever ask for.’

There’s a long silence. Harry knows it’s the truth. Uma’s always loved her crew, and they’ve always loved her. It’s kept them loyal to each other and working together, but there’s always been the danger that somebody will use it against them, and now, at last, somebody has. Not a single person opens their mouth to deny what Ben’s said.

It’s Bonny who speaks at last. ‘Should we kill him?’ she asks bluntly. ‘I’d hate for Auradon to win, or our parents either.’

‘It’s not _his_ fault we couldn’t figure out how to use him,’ Mathilde objects.

‘It isn’t,’ Uma agrees, ‘though, once again, that’s not how hostage-taking works. But I never did care much for revenge. Ben.’

‘Yes Uma?’ Ben’s voice is totally steady. He’s adjusted fast to life-or-death stakes; Harry has to give him that.

‘I may not see the point in harming you,’ she says, ‘but there’s plenty of people on this island who’d do it for fun. And I couldn’t protect you from all of them, even if I wanted to. So. Any bright ideas?’

‘Just one,’ Ben says. He turns to the side of the ship, where the writhing mass of fog that marks the barrier presses almost to the rails. He raises both hands.

Uma steps forward and grabs his forearm.

‘What are you doing?’ she demands.

‘I’m ruling my kingdom,’ Ben replies. Most of the crew just look nonplussed, but Uma’s jaw tightens.

‘My mother said we should look to your own power,’ she says. ‘Was she right?’

‘Let’s find out,’ Ben says. He makes fists, as if he’s grabbing hold of a curtain. Then he pulls his hands apart.

He’s got to be kidding, Harry thinks. He looks faintly ridiculous, standing there like he can pull the air about with his hands. Wishing away bloody wounds is one thing, but it’s not like he can just snap his fingers and –

The fog is writhing in two separate halves. There’s a kind of fissure opening up between them, leading to god knows what.

‘My mother was right,’ Uma says thickly. ‘Blood-sucking daughter of lampreys, she was _right_.’

Harry grabs Ben’s shoulder. ‘What about King Beast?’ he cries.

‘What about him?’ Ben says.

‘You’re trusting us loose in your precious kingdom?’ Harry changes tack.

That makes Ben turn his eyes away from the barrier. He looks right at Harry, and there’s something in his expression that closes Harry’s throat. But before he can work out what it is, he can’t see Ben’s face at all. It’s lost in the blinding beam of light that suddenly lances across the deck from the fissure in the fog.

'What the fuck?' Harry exclaims. He stumbles and squints as he looks up; the light is so bright.

Desiree cries out. Jonas throws up his hand to hide his face. Harry feels Mathilde grab his arm, but he’s too astounded to grab her back.

‘Ben!’ Uma shouts, but Ben doesn’t answer. He spreads his hands further, and the fissure widens. More light spills through. Golden light. The dingy sails of the _Lost Revenge_ are suddenly glowing brilliant white.

'Is that the _sun_?' Harry gasps.

The fog rolls back still further, and now light isn’t just coming _in_. Harry can see _out_. He can see water, a mile of it, still half-veiled in fog that dissipates second by second. Across the water, there's a low strip of land. The land is impossibly green. The water glitters.

‘Is that Auradon? Right there? That’s Auradon!’ Gonzo dashes to the rail, staring out despite the brightness that’s sending Harry reeling.

Ben lets his right hand drop. One-handed, he holds open an arch as tall and as wide as the _Lost Revenge_. Through the arch pours more colour and light than Harry’s ever seen. Around and behind them the fog lowers and reaches out its fingers, but the ship itself is bathed in sunshine.

‘You’re removing the barrier?’ Uma shouts.

‘I’m _opening_ the barrier,’ Ben says. ‘Take it or leave it.’

Harry stares at that bright crack in the fog. His heart is pounding so fast it’s making him dizzy.

'Hoist anchor!' Uma roars out. 'Heave to, you lubbers! This wreck ain't gonna sail itself!'

'This wreck ain't gonna sail at all!' Jonas protests, but he grabs hold of the hoist just the same.

'If that's the case you can take an oar and paddle us to Auradon!' Uma shouts. 'Haul away!'

It's not the first mate's place to be hauling the anchor, but Harry's so eager to be doing something that makes sense that he dives forward and lays hold of one of the hoist's spokes. Gil comes running up and sets his shoulder to the third. He heaves so hard that the hoist nearly drags the other two off their feet when it starts to spin.

Yards and yards of dripping green chain groan as they're hauled slowly up, dragging the anchor out of the silt that tries to suck it back down. Droplets of water dazzle in the sun. The trailing seaweed looks as rich and green as velvet.

'Anchor clear, Captain!' Harry shouts.

'Hold fast!' Uma calls. She's standing with her feet planted, arms slightly out, fingers spread. Her eyes are locked on that sunny rift in the clouds.

A sudden wind, an off-shore wind, whisks across the deck and sets her braids dancing. The rigging creaks. The sails try to rise.

'She'll never sail!' Bonny gasps.

'She'll sail,' Uma says. She raises her arms. The wind comes again, hard and tearing, and then the whole ship lurches.

The dock appears to be sinking, but then Harry realises it's the _Revenge_ that's rising, carried on a swell that grows higher than any natural wave.

'Magic, Captain, magic!' Gil shouts. 'Do it, do it, yes, yes, yes!'

Uma swings her arms forward, and the wave grabs them and sends them rocketing towards the open sea.

Harry stumbles and grabs the hoist for balance. Beside him, Jonas slips and hits the deck with a curse. They're rushing forward, wind and foam whipping into their faces, the whole ship groaning as she carves the waves. And then, as suddenly as it started, the motion stops. Uma lets her arms drop, and the swell that’s carrying them dissipates. The Isle has fallen away behind them, and Auradon is spread out in front. The _Revenge_ floats on the sparkling water, bathed in afternoon sunshine, under an endless dome of blue.

‘No way!’ Harry gasps. He steps away from the hoist and does a full turn on the deck, staring upwards. The sky is too blue to be real. ‘No fucking _way_!’

The deck pitches and he stumbles hard. The waves that roll into the docks on the Isle are nothing to the swell out here. It’s all so big, so bright it makes his head spin. He rights himself and moves towards Uma, carefully, one foot at a time. She’s got her stance wide, keeping her balance. The golden sunshine lights her up. He feels like he’s never seen her properly before.

‘Uma!’ He manages to reach her without falling on his arse, and he forgets himself completely; he grabs hold of her and crushes her to him. She doesn’t stop him. She slumps in his arms, and he feels her tiredness, remembers that she’s just used magic to command the wind and waves for the first time.

‘You did it, Captain, you did it, we’re out, we’re out!’ he crows. He holds her up, rocks her back and forth in his arms. And then Gil slams into him from behind and nearly sends them both flying, and Mathilde’s attaching herself to Uma’s back like a limpet, and the whole crew’s there, crowding around, clapping Uma and Harry on the back.

‘Three cheers for the captain!’ Bonny roars, and Harry drags Uma’s fist into the air while the crew bellow _hurrahs_ around them.

‘Oh my God, it’s so big!’ Desiree is all but sobbing.

‘Look at those white blobs on the shore,’ Gil is saying. ‘Are they sheep? I’m sure those are sheep!’

‘You worked magic!’ Ben is walking towards them, knees bent to absorb the roll of the ship. His sea legs look better than any of the crew’s; of course, he must have _been_ on the open sea before. This is the world where Ben knows everything and they know nothing, and he’s just catapulted them into it without so much as a by-your-leave. But when Harry looks at him, and looks at the brilliant daylight shining down on him, the euphoria rises up again and drowns all his other thoughts. He reaches out a hand to Ben and pulls him into the melee.

‘Uma, you worked magic!’ Ben exclaims again.

‘Always wondered if I could,’ Uma says thickly. She’s still drooping, gripping Harry tightly. He can’t believe he gets to touch her.

At that moment Ben gives a lurch that’s out of sync with the roll of the ship. Harry grabs him tighter and pulls him in, and next thing he knows he’s got an exhausted magic user hanging off each arm. And that’s too many for his partly bled-out self.

‘Alright, crew, give us air!’ he shouts. The crush around them opens out obediently. ‘Your majesty, you can have a sit-down _there_ …’ He bends and deposits Ben on an empty crate. ‘Captain’s chair?’

‘Here!’ Gil has already fetched Uma’s throne from the other side of the deck. He sets it down behind Uma and she sinks into it, holding Harry’s arm but hardly leaning on it, for all the world like a queen choosing to sit and not like she’s about to faint from magical exhaustion.

Now she doesn’t need his arm any more, but he doesn’t want her to let go. He stares at her, and she meets his eyes, giving him that look that says she can read his every thought, and that she’s going to be indulgent. She shifts her hand so that it’s resting on top of his. Permission. He brings her fingers to his lips and kisses them gently, and for the first time he can really believe that he’s not bleeding, that his lungs are whole.

‘They really are sheep; I saw them move,’ Gil says, and Harry leans over the back of Uma’s throne and kisses him too. No blood in his mouth this time. Gil’s hair has never looked as golden-blond as it does in all this light.

‘Harry,’ Gil says, ‘I was so scared for you – ’

‘Not just yet,’ Harry interrupts quickly, squeezing the back of his neck. ‘It’s okay.’

He looks around. Ben’s eyes are on the three of them – or, at least, one is. The other is swollen almost fully shut from where Hook hit him. Harry lets go of Gil’s neck and steps hastily away.

Ben doesn’t look kingly any more. He looks wrecked. Just another villain kid, fresh out of a scrape that got too hot for him. But kingly or not, he’s just torn the barrier apart with a gesture, and Uma’s not going to forget it.

‘What have you done?’ she says.

The rest of the crew drift nearer, uncertainly. Overhead, the mast creaks, and the rigging throws moving shadows onto the deck. The surf rushes softly. The whole day smiles as if there’s nothing wrong at all.

Ben lets his hands drop into his lap and makes a half-hearted effort to sit up.

‘It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission,’ he says tiredly. ‘You were all worried about what your parents are doing to do. Well, now they can’t get to you. We’ll get to Auradon and nobody’ll be able to deny that this was what I wanted.’

‘And what about all the kids on the Isle who we’ve left behind?’ Uma asks.

‘I just opened the barrier; you were the one who floated us out,’ Ben snaps. He closes his eyes, collects himself. ‘You can advocate for them just as well in Auradon as on the Isle. Better. I promise.’

‘How did you _do_ it?’ Gonzo pipes up. ‘I thought magic didn’t work on the Isle.’

‘It doesn’t.’ Ben turns his hands over and stares at their backs. ‘But a king can bind and loose, open and close, anywhere within the borders of his realm. And he can heal.’

‘I knew it!’ Gil crows. Uma sends him a look. Another moment and he notices and quietens down.

‘I thought Ursula was just trying to goad us into hurting you,’ she says. ‘I thought she was talking nonsense. How long have you known you could do this?’ 

‘Ursula was talking about me?’ Ben blinks in confusion.

‘Whole Isle was talking about you. Answer the question.’

I didn’t.’ Ben shakes his head. ‘I swear I didn’t…but I should have.’ He sighs. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’

‘Hey,’ Harry finds himself saying, ‘it’s your job to look good on coins, not to know ancient magic. We can’t all be as smart as Gil.’

Uma shoots Harry a sharp-eyed glance, and Gil beams, but Ben’s mouth barely twitches. Harry must be losing his touch.

‘Are we really going to sail to Auradon?’ Jonas asks. ‘It’s going to be a mess when we get there. We could just keep on going.’

‘I think it’s time we gave them their king back, don’t you?’ Uma replies. That gets a slightly hysterical round of laughter from the crew.

‘I’m don’t think he’d mind it if we didn’t give him back,’ Gil says. ‘Persuading his council to like us isn’t going to be fun.’

Ben’s mouth makes a painful-looking twist, before he smooths it out into a rueful laugh and shakes his head.

‘Please don’t kidnap me again,’ he says. ‘I’ve got work to do in Auradon.’

‘Are we going to be safe in Auradon?’ Uma asks bluntly.

‘You are,’ Ben says. ‘I promise. I swear it. They can doubt that my orders come from me, but they can’t disobey them when they clearly do.’

‘Hmm.’ Uma leans back in her throne. ‘Harry? What do you think?’

‘What do I know?’ Harry protests.

‘You’ve spent more time with him than I have, and under more trying circumstances. Give me the benefit of your advice, please.’

‘Alright.’ This day’s been coming at Harry, one damned thing after another. But he was supposed to be spending it getting the measure of the king. He tries to put everything together and look back on it. He remembers Ben fluttering over his bleeding self in an alley, trying to throw hands with his da, and – he grimaces – listening transfixed while Harry explains what it’s like to belong to Uma and know that Gil belongs too.

‘He’s fickle,’ Harry says. ‘He cares about problems he can see. He cares about whichever villain kid is in front of him. But when he makes a promise…a hard promise…he sticks to it. Reckon he’ll stick to this. Especially since he’ll have us all kicking about to remind us how much he likes us.’ He tips a wink at Ben.

‘That will likely help,’ Ben says abruptly, ‘but let’s make doubly sure. Uma, as soon as we get to Auradon, I’m appointing you as my councillor for Isle affairs. And then you’ll have as much say as anyone in how I rule.’

‘Holy _fuck_ ,’ Gonzo exclaims.

‘I think Harry touched a nerve,’ Mathilde mutters.

‘You can’t say fairer than that,’ Bonny says. She strides forward so that she can lean close to Uma. ‘Captain, I think you should say yes – ’

‘Wait, wait…’ Uma says, waving her back. ‘Let me get this straight, your majesty. You’re inviting me to be part of your _government_?’

‘Yes. I think it’s time I appointed a few councillors who share my views on policy – and who know the Isle from the inside. I was asking Mal and the others to fill that role without realising it, but now I’m asking you formally. You know how to wield power…and you want it.’

Harry swallows. He knows she does want it, and he wants it for her.

He also remembers how she’d once vowed to rain down evil on Auradon. How little she’d ever wanted to be beholden to the king.

‘Harry?’ Uma asks. ‘What do you think?’

‘Take it,’ he says quickly, before he can think. ‘You should take it.’

‘Alright.’ Uma uncrosses her legs and sits up straight. ‘I accept your offer and I thank you. And I – for getting us out of there.’

‘It was nothing,’ Ben says.

‘Not quite nothing,’ Uma says, then sits forward in her chair and stares out towards the horizon. ‘But what…is _that_?’

Ben shades his eyes and looks where she’s looking. The sunlight shows off his bruise in a half-dozen different shades of purple.

‘Semaphore flags,’ he says after a moment. ‘We’ve been spotted. Someone on shore’s signalling us.’

Harry knows flags. He squints. ‘They want us to identify ourselves.’

‘I’ve got no colours but jolly rogers,’ Uma says, ‘and those aren’t exactly reassuring. What’ll happen if we don’t respond?’

‘They’ll send out the coast guard, I expect,’ Ben says, ‘to see if we’re alright. There hasn’t been a hostile ship in these waters for twenty years.’

‘Well,’ Uma says, ‘that’s alright then, I suppose.’

‘Puts paid to sailing away though, doesn’t it?’ Harry says. ‘I suppose if they’re not friendly we can always board them. Swap this old junker for something a bit more seaworthy.’

‘That won’t be necessary,’ Uma says quellingly. ‘The king and I have a deal.’

‘Perhaps I ought to write it down straight away,’ Ben says. ‘Just in case the people who come to meet us try to change my mind.’

‘Alright, princey, you’ve made your point,’ Harry says. ‘We trust you.’

‘No, I think I’ll have it written down,’ Uma says. She fishes in her pocket and pulls out a stub of pencil and a heavy sheet of paper – the last letter from Auradon, creased like it’s been folded and unfolded many times. She presents the back of it to Ben. ‘That’s the only paper we’ve got. Will it do?’

‘Very nicely,’ Ben says.

‘Put down that I’m to be your councillor for Isle affairs, _and_ that you guarantee safety and lodgings for my crew,’ Uma instructs.

‘Of course,’ Ben says. Harry waits for him to respond with a list of conditions of his own. Something about being peaceable when they get to Auradon, or not hijacking the first boat that comes to investigate them. But he doesn’t say anything, just balances the paper on his knees and starts to write. Is he trusting them? Or does he just doubt their ability to do Auradon any real damage? Harry looks around the _Revenge_ : a barely-seaworthy hulk with a handful of crew. The spreading shoreline in front of them looks so much bigger than he’d imagined, and he knows that not everybody who lives there is a silly princess like he’s seen on TV. Some of them are the people who made the Isle.

‘Captain?’ Bonny calls. ‘I think that ship that signalled us is moving. She’s a long way off, but she’s coming.’

‘Shall we sail to meet her?’ Ben asks. Harry doesn’t know how he can talk and write at the same time.

‘We’ve never sailed her in open waters, Ben,’ Uma says. ‘We wait.’ She looks around the deck. ‘But there’s no reason we can’t get her ship-shape. We might as well _look_ like pirates.’ She raises her voice. ‘Alright, you lot! Any nonsense you’ve left lying around to clutter up my deck? Move it. Sails torn, ropes frayed? Make them look like they’re not. Stack those crates now. Move!’

There’s a flurry of activity. Everybody wants a job to do right now. Harry moves to join them, but,

‘Stay, Harry,’ Uma says, so he does. She reaches out, hooks a hand round his leg and brings him right up close to her throne.

‘Are you hurting, sweet thing?’ she asks, very low.

‘No, Captain.’

‘Good.’ Uma glances at Ben. His eyes are on his writing. The rest of the crew are clattering around, and the sound of the wind and waves is constant. It’s the closest to privacy they’re going to get without going below deck. ‘How’d you get hurt?’ she asks.

Harry crouches to bring his mouth closer to her ear.

‘Wasn’t his fault,’ he murmurs. ‘CJ heard me talking.’

Uma narrows her eyes, then widens them questioningly. _You’ll be in trouble for that later. For now, tell me more_.

‘Helped me fight her off. Tried to fight Da, for all the good it did. Gave no trouble.’

‘You armed him?’

‘Outnumbered. No choice. He slipped his ropes anyway.’

‘Sneaky.’ Uma purses her lips. ‘Hook did his face?’

‘Yep. Took it like a champ though. He’s a plucky thing.’

‘Mmm,’ Uma muses. ‘You’re fonder of him than when you set off.’

She looks right in his eyes as she says it, so it’s not just a quip.

Harry’s insides snarl like fishing lines, the way they do when somebody catches him out; but not when Uma does, usually, because she’s _allowed_ to know things.

‘You told me to get him to like me,’ he says.

‘Seems you got to liking him.’

It would be so easy to snap _no I didn’t_ , but he doesn’t _lie_ to his captain. Ben _was_ plucky, when no-one but Harry was there to see it. But if he says they should start trusting the person who abandoned them to the Isle just because he feels _sad_ about it…Harry can’t explain. Certainly not in whispers with the whole crew around them and Ben sitting three feet away and a ship from Auradon closing in. Damn it, when are he and Uma going to get a moment _alone_?

‘If you’d refused to do the job I wouldn’t have forced you,’ Uma says. ‘You tap out if it’s too hard. That’s one of the rules.’

‘It wasn’t too _hard_.’ Harry fights to keep his voice down. ‘I’m not going to refuse to do every job that’s _uncomfortable._ ’

‘I’d rather you do that than get soft on me,’ Uma says. Harry bites his tongue. Uma stares at him, because another rule is that he has to say everything that’s on his mind when they argue, even when he’d rather just put his head in her lap and let her win.

‘If I’m soft for the king,’ he says, ‘then you’re soft for every kid on the Isle. Jonas was right.’

Uma blinks. She sinks back into her throne. Her posture turns resigned, and tired. Then she reaches out her hand and holds it beside Harry’s head, in invitation. Harry leans into her palm. She puts her fingers through his hair.

‘Alright,’ she says. ‘I am. Me compassionate, and you forgiving. No wonder our parents don’t want us.’

‘The king wants us,’ Harry says.

‘Oh?’ Uma’s eyes light with interest. She turns away from Harry, back to where Ben is still bent over his writing. ‘Finished, your majesty?’ she calls. With her body turned towards him and her hand still in Harry’s hair, her arm is at full stretch. She makes a fist of her hand to anchor it more firmly.

‘Finished,’ Ben confirms. He looks at Uma, at Harry, at Uma pulling Harry’s hair.

 _Oh no_ , Harry thinks.

‘Is that legally binding?’ Bonny asks, pausing with a box in her hands to bend over Ben’s shoulder. Even in blunt pencil, he writes a beautiful hand, but the creased paper still looks like scrap.

‘All it needs to be binding is my signature,’ Ben says. ‘I’ll have a fair copy made up when we land.’

‘And I’ll take that one for now.’ Uma plucks the paper from his fingers and folds it back into her pocket.

‘That document is actually your summons to my council,’ Ben says, ‘so yes, you should take it.’

So much they don’t know about how this world works. Harry really, really hopes he’s right about Ben.

‘Harry,’ Uma says, ‘it’s bright as all hell on this deck, and you and the king have had a trying day. Take him below and coax him to use a little more of that magic to fix up his face before his subjects see him. And if he’s all out of magic, get him a cold rag to put on it at least. Then drink lots of water yourself, because you’ve lost a generous measure of blood.’

Harry scowls. He wants somebody else to take care of the bloody king, while _Uma_ takes him below and fetches him water. And if she has to stay on deck to be ready for their Auradonian visitors, then he wants to stay with her, bright sun be damned. But he obediently gets to his feet, goes over to Ben’s crate and taps him on the shoulder.

‘You heard the captain, Benny,’ he says. ‘Down we go.’

Ben rises like a sleepwalker. One sleepless night and a back-alley scrap have really taken it out of him. But then Harry supposes you have to factor in two feats of magic in quick succession as well. And then he turns to lead the way and the heaving deck and glittering sea blur together for a moment and he has to pause and pretend he feels fine until they come steady.

Alright, he’s not going to laugh at Ben until after he’s had a sit-down.

‘Bonny, how far out is that ship?’ he hears Uma ask.

‘Hard to say; I don’t know how fast they can go. She’s under sail…oh Lord, I can’t tell. An hour?’

Harry takes a breath. Not even the pull of scar tissue over where his chest was cut open an hour ago. He puts one foot in front of the other down the stairs, and Ben follows after him.

Down into Uma’s cabin, and they could be back on the Isle, except for the pinpricks of light filtering through the ship’s woodwork. Harry wants to topple head-first into the scavenged blankets and sleep for a week, but Ben’s dithering on the threshold. He’s never been in here before.

‘Come on,’ Harry says. He takes Ben by the sleeve and jerks him into the cabin. ‘Sit down. Take a minute. Aren’t you going to do anything about that face?’ He puts two fingers to Ben’s cheek, below the line where the bruising ends. Ben lets his head turn with the pressure until Harry’s hand drops away.

‘I don’t know how to turn it on and off,’ he says.

‘You didn’t seem to have any trouble turning it on for me.’

‘That was an emergency.’

‘And this isn’t?’ Harry asks. ‘No, don’t go all self-denying on me. What will your public think?’ His voice sounds off to his own ears. He usually runs his mouth when he’s not sure what to do, and it usually works, so why doesn’t it feel like it’s working now? He gives his head a little shake and pushes him towards the bed. ‘Look, sit down at least.’

‘Alright.’ Ben sits.

Harry thinks. Uma’s sent him down here for a reason. Like it or not, exhausted or not, he’s the one who knows the king best now. And they’ve got no idea what they’re sailing into.

‘Princey,’ he asks, ‘what are we sailing into?’

‘Nothing,’ Ben promises. He looks as bruised as ever. Harry frowns. ‘Nothing bad. I’ll show myself on deck as soon as that other ship gets close. They’ll follow my orders and bring us ashore. It’ll probably be dramatic and awkward, but…I mean that in the Auradon sense. I doubt it’ll bother you.’

‘And then what?’

‘Then we find a solution for the Isle. Uma argues her side, my other councillors pick their stance, and I try to decide what will work.’

‘You’re blunt this afternoon,’ Harry says. ‘Maybe we should wear you out more often.’ Ben shoots him a look that’s _suspiciously_ close to a scowl. ‘But I was asking what will happen to me specifically.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Ben pushes his hair back, gives his forehead a quick massage as he goes. ‘Not Auradon Prep. I’ve learned from that mistake. I suppose I can send the crew to my country residence for now. It’ll be a roof over your heads, and people are less likely to bother you there.’

‘Who’d be bothering us?’ Harry’s struck by a vision of ragging on Jay in a pristine hallway and watching him try not to react; and just as quickly struck by the realisation that that’s _not_ going to happen.

‘The press,’ Ben answers.

 _They dined with Aladdin and Jasmine_ , the TV announcer’s voice plays in his memory. Harry realises he’s been carrying around two versions of landing in Auradon in his head. One is with Uma at the head of a naval attack, and the other is…whatever that nonsense that played on the TV was. And now, apparently, some other third thing is going to happen instead.

‘When will we see the captain if we’re locked up miles away from court?’ he asks sharply.

‘I’ll see to it,’ Ben soothes. ‘I just want you out of the media circus, and the politics. That was what made things so impossible for Mal. And the others too, I think.’

Harry snorts. ‘I think I can handle anything little Mal can handle, and then some. Besides, if I’m not allowed to get involved in politics then when will I see _you_? I’d get quite lonesome without you under my feet.’

‘You’ll get used to it,’ Ben snaps.

‘Grumpy, aren’t you? Let’s fix that face.’ Harry turns to grab the water flask that’s hanging over Uma’s bedstead, belatedly remembering her instruction to drink. He gropes in his pocket for a rag to soak for Ben’s face, but the one he pulls out is stiff with blood.

Ben’s handkerchief. He recognises the monogram. His blood. Again that missing-step lurch, his mind and body remembering different things.

‘Don’t suppose you want this back, do you?’ he asks, tossing the bloodstained handkerchief into Ben’s lap.

Ben goes rigid. He stares down at the ball of red. He says nothing. His eyes turn glossy, and then tears spill out of them and run down his face and splash onto his knees.

‘Shit,’ Harry says.

Ben gives a little gasp, but doesn’t turn away or move his hands or do anything to cover the fact that he’s _openly weeping_. His whole body cringes away the bloody handkerchief, but he doesn’t move it. He just lets it sit on his knees and cries.

‘Fuck, okay.’ Harry plucks the handkerchief out of Ben’s lap again, but as soon as it’s back in his hand he finds that his skin is crawling. He throws it into the corner of the cabin – maybe Ben thinks it’s disrespectful to throw somebody’s bodily relics around, but Harry’s got no scruples. But he still knows it’s there. His eyes are drawn to where it fell. For a moment he’s afraid to breathe, afraid that he’ll find that crushing pain in his lungs again if he does.

‘Don’t cry,’ he says uselessly.

‘You nearly _died_!’ Ben weeps.

‘Look, if you cry, I’m gonna cry…’ He tries for blasé, but his voice breaks. Fuck. ‘Any minute now your people are going to be up there and we can’t be crying.’

Maybe, he thinks, this is why Uma sent them both below. Maybe they’re supposed to go to pieces now, and get it back together by the time they meet the other ship.

‘You saved my life,’ Ben says, and then he lurches across the bed into Harry’s arms. Harry doesn’t know what he’s expecting; some bizarre gesture of kingly appreciation, or for Ben to just curl up in his lap and start sobbing. What he gets is Ben kissing him on the mouth.

Royal protocol is not something that Harry’s got reflexes for. Kissing is. Ben throws himself at him with enough vigour to send him swaying towards horizontal, which is a powerful cue of its own. Harry’s mouth opens and his hands go to Ben’s face. Ben flinches when Harry touches his damaged cheek, and Harry quickly moves his hand – to Ben’s throat, because he finds that he quite likes the idea of hurting him right now. Confusing, reckless idiot – 

Ben gasps at the pressure on his throat; Harry licks into his mouth. Ben _moans_. Harry bets none of those Auradon kids can kiss worth a damn. He feels sorry for the poor bastard. He’s also got a delightful picture in his head of Mal’s face if she could see them now –

 _Damnation_. He shifts his grip to Ben’s chin and forces his face away.

‘Are you crazy?’ he says. ‘ _You_ saved _my_ life.’

‘You fought them off,’ Ben says breathlessly. ‘CJ and Anthony.’

‘You helped.’

‘Anthony wanted to kill me, he said so himself, you got in the way, Harry – ’

‘Anthony’s a little bitch,’ Harry spits, but the memory of Anthony’s sword swinging at Ben sets his stomach lurching. He grits his teeth. It didn’t happen. Ben’s fine. He’s solid and real under Harry’s hands as Harry grabs him by waist and thigh and pulls him to kneel across his lap. Ben inhales in surprise, but he also definitely puts his own muscles to work to help move him to where they both want him to be. Harry puts both hands in his hair and brings his mouth down.

 _Now_ he feels like the same body that fought and got stabbed that same day. Ben’s kissing him like he saw it happen.

‘ _Fix it_ , damn you!’ Harry growls as he kisses, and taps his open palm against Ben’s bruise. Ben jerks away from the impact, but the damage is already fading before Harry’s eyes. He fancies he can feel the magic working in his fingertips. He fancies he can taste it. His lungs ache with the memory of it. He chases the vanishing bruise with his fingers, and before it’s fully gone, before the pain is gone, Ben is leaning into his touch.

 _I want to take you apart_ , Harry thinks.

It occurs to him that the bed is _right there_ , that they’re literally _on_ the bed; it would be the easiest thing in the world to topple Ben down _into_ the bed and let this thing burn itself out. But he knows that can’t be the Auradon way, and it’s certainly not going to be _Ben’s_ way. Sure enough, Ben breaks their kiss and pants,

‘Stop!’

‘You started it!’ Harry complains.

‘I know.’ Ben puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder, like he has to brace himself to keep from leaning in again. ‘I shouldn’t have – ’

‘Are you _kidding_ me?’

‘You got hurt looking after me. It was all my fault, you wouldn’t have had to watch out for me if I hadn’t come to your island looking for my girlfriend – ’

‘If you hadn’t come to our island we wouldn’t be out here now,’ Harry says roughly.

‘You should have been out here already! I shouldn’t have left you all there for a single day – ’

‘Are you going to keep acting this guilty forever?’ Harry asks.

‘I thought you wanted me to feel guilty.’

‘We do! And if you think telling me about it is going to make me feel sorry for you – ’

‘I don’t. You shouldn’t. I – ’

Harry growls through his teeth. Wanting Ben to hurt feels bad, and _not_ wanting him to hurt feels bad, but kissing feels good, so he does that. He bites at Ben’s mouth, and Ben kisses back for long moments before he pulls away again.

‘Dating Mal was the most selfish thing I’ve ever done,’ he says. ‘It ruined everything.’

‘Are you seriously going to sit in my lap and tell me about your ex?’ Harry demands.

‘Oh God. Oh God, I shouldn’t – ’

‘Hold still!’ Harry grabs Ben by the waist as he tries to twist away. ‘You chased her all the way back to the Isle and she told you to get fucked. You’re a free man. And how did you ruin everything? _She_ spelled _you_!’

Ben shrugs jerkily, like he’s shrugging off the facts. ‘I knew. It washed off. I chose her anyway. I knew it would be too much for her, and I still – ’

‘So she couldn’t hack it,’ Harry interrupts. ‘So what? You’re mine now.’

Ben goes quiet and still. He looks straight into Harry’s face, and his expression is yearning; like when Harry talked about Uma and Gil; like when Uma pulled Harry’s hair; except this time he doesn’t try to disguise it. He just lets it shine.

‘You don’t know what it’s like,’ he says, very gently. ‘You don’t want that.’

‘Don’t tell me what I want, King Ben,’ Harry answers. ‘I’d rather – I’d rather be caught up in your courtly bullshit than locked up in some country house – ’

‘You want to help Uma,’ Ben overrides him, ‘and you will. That’s between the two of you. But the public won’t get hold of you like they did the other four.’

‘ _You_ don’t want me,’ Harry says petulantly, just to see what he’ll do.

Ben’s eyebrows pull together. His expression turns even more sickly than before. ‘You’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on,’ he says.

‘Save it for your princes and princesses,’ Harry says, but Ben cups his cheek and leans down and kisses him again. A close-mouthed Auradon kiss this time, but it still sears, somehow. His hand slides down the side of Harry’s neck, brushing the bruise there for just a second. It’s obvious what he wants. It’s maddening.

Everything feels upside down. Harry doesn’t know why he’s arguing the side he is. He’s got no idea how they got here at all. All he knows is that the idea of not being around Ben _hurts_.

Damned princely magic. And he was so careful.

‘You working some kind of kiss magic on me, princey?’ he rasps.

‘No.’

‘Would you know if you were?’

‘Probably not. So you admit that you’re not making sense?’

‘Far as I can make out, nothing in Auradon makes sense,’ Harry says. ‘I’m just getting with the times.’

Ben laughs, that soft, sad, _resigned_ laugh of his, and starts trying to clamber out of Harry’s lap. Harry realises that it’s over. The kiss, over; the day, over; the endless negotiation with Auradon, over. Uma and Ben’s negotiation just beginning, without him. He stops himself. If he thinks about Ben’s _country residence_ , he’s going to panic for real.

‘How come you’re getting the captain mixed up in it but not me?’ he asks. Ben sighs.

‘Somebody has to, and she knows what she’s getting herself into more than most. Besides, I don’t think I could tell her no.’

Harry nods, pleased. If Ben has a redeeming feature, it’s that he’s got the measure of Uma.

‘And what if it was her who wanted to kiss you?’ he carries on. ‘What would you say then?’

Ben goes still. Harry gives the shadow of a grin.

‘She wouldn’t,’ Ben answers finally – which is no answer at all. Harry grins more widely. He’s just going to have to pray that this is what Uma had planned when she sent them below deck.

‘Harry?’ It’s Mathilde’s voice, calling through the door. ‘We need you and the king on deck. That Auradon ship’s close enough to hail.’ 

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this story! Thank you very much to those regular readers who've been following along with every chapter; I appreciate the hell out of you!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Magic Works On The Isle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24129103) by [astrivikia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrivikia/pseuds/astrivikia)




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